


Choice Chances

by Semi_Weird_Shipper



Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Angst, Annoying Knockout, Betrayal, Bond blocking, Comfort Sex, Corruption, Denial, Depression, Dubious Consent, Emptiness, Few spelling errors, First chapters the worst, Fluff and Smut, Forced Bonding, Forgiveness, Grief/Mourning, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, I wrote this a long time ago, It really isn't that bad, Kidnapping, Light Bondage, Loss, M/M, Minor Character Death, Non-Consensual Oral Sex, Old Writing, Poly bond, Possessive Behavior, Protectiveness, Rape Aftermath, Rape Recovery, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rare Pairings, Revenge, Sexual Violence, Stalking, Suspense, The autobots are not nice, Threesome - M/M/M, Trust Issues, Uncomfortable fear, Uncontrollable emotions, Voyeurism, crashing, don't hate me, gets better, happiness, hard choices, not as bad as it sounds, rough interfacing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-11
Updated: 2019-03-15
Packaged: 2019-05-21 04:06:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 53,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14908019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Semi_Weird_Shipper/pseuds/Semi_Weird_Shipper
Summary: Repost of my Story from Fanfiction.Net.Summary: On Megatron's victory day, he tortures Bumblebee directly in front of the autobots, forcing them to watch while somewhere else, where nobody could see, Smokescreen was getting violated as well. Dreadwing and Shockwave force Smokescreen into bonding with them, but no one sees what's coming next.DON'T LIKE? simple. DON'T READ. It has a happier plot than what one would first think. The first chapter is probably the worst. The rest gradually gets better.





	1. Chapter 1

"Ahh, Optimus Prime," Megatron's deep and throaty voice rumbled amusingly as he stared down at his captive. At all his subordinates. "So nice to see you in this troublesome state before me."

Megatron looked down at all the autobots' in their submissive positions, wanting to smirk but holding it back for the time being. Each autobot was setting on their knees with vehicons holding their servos behind their backs. "I couldn't ask for a more striking view," Megatron purred as he walked back and forth.

Optimus struggled slightly from the position he was put in at worst stake. "What do you want, Megatron?" he asked in a calm tone. As worried as he was, this was a situation that needed his intelligence and cooperation.

Megatron had studied each bot he passed by with devilishly roaming optics like lava that could burn the soul mentally. There was that purple motorcycle femme; bleh… he wasn't one for female screams. There was that big bulky, green wrecker… too huge and restless. There was that slim, white bot who stole the omega keys out of his lock… he would soon pay by misery.

Megatron clenched his fist together while looking down at Smokescreen who only glared back at him with hate infused in his optics. He studied his curvy hips, small colors of red, blue and black and his confidant skills that provoke such bravery. Smokescreen wasn't one to intimidate the lord of decepticons, but he was one for making his spark drip with revenge.

After checking the white autobot out, Megatron nodded slowly and started walking back in a straight line until he came across a bunch of yellow. When he turned to look down, he saw the sweetest blue optics of a bot he had once torn the vocalizer out of. He remembered this young scout through many encounters and certainly found him to be the most of his interest.

Megatron studied his prey, the fresh yellow paint like a glowing sun on top of those small, easily crushable things the humans call sunflowers, and his optics make good as the sky. Those hips were shaped so finely like he was personally carved that way by Primus desire. No mouth… well that sure didn't matter now did it? Megatron let an evil, crooked smirk dominate his face while bending over to get optic to optic with the youngest autobot.

"What I want, Optimus," Megatron started while lifting his helm a little to look down the row of captured autobots', "Is an even more striking view."

That didn't sound good. Optimus's optics widened but only slightly while he remained calm and composed, knowing that there was nothing he could do yet. Whatever Megatron planned on doing, he expected it to be murder… but that didn't seem to be the deal here. What kind of position was he talking about?

Megatron grinded his denta together, waiting for a defense reply from the autobot leader or even protest from someone on Team Prime, but nothing came. Growling, he lashed forward and grabbed the yellow bot's arm therefore ripping him away from the vehicon that held him. Once hoisted to his feet, Megatron gazed at Optimus and grumbled in liking as he seen him struggling slightly.

Optimus tested the mechs' holding his arms but found not the strength to tear himself free. "Megatron, release Bumblebee at once," he demanded in his stout voice. "Do what you wish with me, but leave my team alone."

Megatron heard the little Bee buzz in either fear or intimidation and he chuckled lowly, keeping hold of the bot's wrist. "Oh, Optimus, do you really expect me not to enjoy all of my winnings today?"

Megatron thought that Optimus's offer was silly; of course he didn't want anything from the prime. There was only one thing he wanted to do to Optimus and he knew just how to do it. "Besides… what better way to make you suffer from guilt then to take one of your own team members right in front of you?" he threw the yellow autobot to the ground harshly.

The decepticons all favored their master's rash and wondrous ministration for it aroused them so much. Megatron looked behind him at his own troops, his smirking but demanding mouth releasing gruesome orders. "Dreadwing, would you mind holding the prisoner known as Smokescreen?" he asked with and even more demanding voice rolling through him in waves.

"Certainly, Lord Megatron," Dreadwing placed his servo over his spark chamber and gave a nice bow before walking over to the white mech.

Optimus was crawling with fear, his armor literally trying to tremble like there were bugs in it. This cannot happen! They had been overthrown by Megatron's army and were now facing the horridness of what's to come. Anything but this though! "Megatron, stand down at once!" he grunted, his voice rising slightly as he tugged on his bindings.

Megatron loomed down at the yellow autobot crawling on all fours on the ground and he lifted his own foot in the air before crashing it back down on the scout's back. A buzzing scream filled the air making the entire autobot team yell terrorizing threats. Megatron studied the prime's expression of utter anger, fear and spite.

Knockout stood beside Soundwave who was standing in front of Shockwave. This day was a very glorious day indeed, victory amongst all the autobots. Yick… Finally! They had desired this day for the longest time and although they did not have the medic or white wrecker… they had everyone else! That was enough.

"No one touches Bee like that, Optimus let me at him!" Bulkhead hollered, squirming as much as he could in his bindings. He couldn't stand the sight unfolding before his big blue optics.

"Megatron, set Bumblebee free and release us this very instant," Optimus demanded, his tone growing high as he felt the energon running through his circuits fry and sizzle.

"I think not, Optimus Prime," Megatron chuckled disgustingly while kneeling down with his feet on either side of the puny scout, "this is much too enjoyable for me to stop all at once." He reached down, having the autobot pinned so mercilessly, and brushed one of the shivering door wings before him.

Bumblebee felt fear radiate his insides, all his gears groaning from the abuse on the outside and his optics staring unwillingly at the team. He buzzed and whined, trying to stay calm despite everything going on right at this moment. He felt the massive warlord over him and it caused his armor to shake as he remembered the day back on Kaon. Anger did rise up inside him and he wiggled, buzzing-demanding the lord get off him.

Smokescreen felt the presence change around him and it was now Dreadwing holding his servos back, his hold rough but somehow nicer than what the vehicons' had been. However, he continued to struggled, trying to get free from the hold so that he could bash con aft.

Optimus grunted, his engine revving as he attempted to shoot forward but the con Breakdown had a rather heavy hold on him. "Step away from Bumblebee and face me, Megatron," he demanded again, trying to sound reasonable.

Megatron hummed, his optics rolling around as he pretended to process. "No," he said in a loud voice for clear understanding. He then broke the window glass on Bee's door causing a loud whine of static to fill the air making the lord laugh. "Such a frail bot," Megatron mumbled while pushing more weight down on the small bot.

All the autobots tried lashing out, their arms itching to change into weapons or fists balled to punch and break armor. They didn't like what was going on… and they knew what was fixing to happen. It was obvious and it was hard to except knowing they couldn't do one thing about it.

"Do not let frailness slow you down on your work, Lord Megatron," Knockout said from behind, his smile amused and satisfied while watching this.

"Believe me, doctor," Megatron looked up at Optimus, "It shall not." He stood up quickly, one of the autobot's arms in his servo as he gripped and swung Bumblebee around, crashing him backside into the ground. There was a large squeak that filled the air and made Megatron mumble, "Cute."

Bumblebee felt his aching muscles and articulators groan in misery by the forceful actions. His back was burning from the hot surface of the Detroit rocks and his helm hurt from the crash against the ground. He reached a servo up to hold his dizzy processor but he felt something stroke his helm. He beeped and opened his optics only to jerk when he seen the lord of nightmares right in front of him.

"Sensitive are we?" Megatron asked in a lustful tone that no one could say they've ever heard. He crouched down over the autobot with dying optics of forceful red coloring just blistering the room below like a desert sun. "So many choices... so many ways, Optimus Prime," Megatron stopped to gaze up at the glaring Prime, "to make you suffer."

Bumblebee looked up, his processor still swirling as if a clock was ticking and tocking back and forth in front of his optics. His tanks churned and he thought for a moment that he might just spill energon and coolant all over the warlord by mistake. He begged to be set free after noticing that the threats and demands wouldn't work. Heck, not even Optimus Prime could make the warlord budge.

Megatron laughed and stroked the side of the bot's face, seeing the reflection of his cannon back against the shiny grey armor. "So many deliciously sufferable ways to make you howl with pain," He suddenly gripped the chin of the young bot. "Were do I even begin to choose?" he mumbled to himself.

Bumblebee wiggled and strived under the massive lord, shuddering from his sheer mass and body size compared to his. All that shiny silver armor blinding him because the sun reflected so finely off it. The metallic sheen something you could see your glare reflecting back in.

The rest of the team couldn't do anything but watch with horror of their defensive word strategies' not working in the slightest. All they could do was merely wiggle and sometimes test a loose binding only to feel it tighten back up. Optimus was the one who was the stillest, his optics studying and watching the horridness happening in front of him. They had all given up.

Megatron moved his servo downward to the little mech's chest armor and caressed the smooth plating. He openly grinned when he heard the bot buzz with fearful and un-excepting whines. His many fangs seemed to install terror in those sweet little optics he would soon pluck out and shove down Optimus's throat, "In time."

Bumblebee closed his remotely spinning optics, trying to arch his back and push himself away from the monstrous warlord but to no avail. He was stuck like his door wings were practically part of the pavement but still attached to his body. He felt his audios ringing every time he heard that terrifying voice rumble thrilling waves throughout his body, wishing he could turn the volume down.

Megatron growled while taking less time to enjoy making the autobot feel good and move on to making himself feel good. He traced lower and lower, servos moving from chest armor to abdominal armor and then to pelvis armor. He heard cries fill the air and even the sound of Smokescreen offering to take the yellow bot's place. Megatron stopped and glared up at the white bot, "Do not worry... Smokescreen, as soon as I am finished with the young scout, you will be put to your own good uses."

Smokescreen glared spitefully, wiggling in the hold but shivering when he felt every x-vent of Dreadwing's. This wasn't good! He would do anything to stop this madness, even go so far as to take everyone's place.

Bumblebee's optics burst open and spun crazily as he felt his intimate armor being traced with frictional force he would have desired by someone else. Just not Megatron. He felt his body's reaction to such a foul movement and he beeped in anger for trying to let on.

Megatron didn't take much time in waiting for any sinful reactions from the bot. He just reached down between shiny yellow thighs and proceeded in ripping the interface armor off. A loud screech echoes through this dusty beginning of a horror filled canyon like robotic warnings of first and final hell doomed to be doomed. Megatron's optic's widened slightly at the sight of the bot's equipment all laid out for him to neglect and violate.

Bumblebee tried scooting himself away but he was mercilessly pinned without restraint like a morphed gag. Who knew what was going to happen now? Anything was bound to happen and who was there to stop it? Megatron kept on playing with him, seeming to make his vast and eternal point quite clear.

Megatron growled again and stood back up to his full height with one of the autobot's arms in his grasp, hoisting him to his feet also. Not wasting anytime, the warlord reached down and unlatched his own spike housing, feeling the warmish air hit him longingly.

Now Bumblebee's optics bobbed and he reared his helm and body back, trying to pull away from the hold but it not working. He was sensually stuck like a rat on a sticky glue trap, all his friends watching him struggle from inside the cages in the afar.

Megatron growled, stroking himself until fully erect before openly smiling devilishly at the bot and pulling him up by the waist. "If you fail to work with me instead of against me, I will insure that you and your leader fall to the very pit of Cybertron itself." He seethed while bending his knees a little to offer the bot a seat on his lap parsley. He mostly held the yellow bot up by his aft.

Bumblebee buzzed, hearing his team's outburst for his bravery to come to an end but he had it registered very well what the warlord had said. If he didn't cooperate then Optimus would be killed and Cybertron couldn't have that. The worlds' needed this prime... but they didn't need a Bee.

Megatron saw the bot look at him with a buzzy nod and he flashed his fanged smile back before slowly pushing him down. All the decepticons cheered and raised their balled servos in the air, expressing their liking outwardly. "The shows just getting started," Knockout said happily, almost feeling as if he needed popcorn and 3-D glasses to watch.

Bumblebee would be screaming Primus's own roars if he had a voice but instead all he could do was lightly shriek and beep from agony. His port was unimaginably stretched to the entire base of the mech who was taking him. He cried, coolant trying to seep out his optics as he was taken so ravishingly. The team's cries didn't even compare to the Detroit deserts past itself.

Megatron let out a pleased and roaring growl as his satisfaction writhed inside him like the autobot was against him. Every part of him screaming at his outsides for him to take more and take fiercely. He loved the way the yellow bot had no other choice but to hold onto his neck while he lowered and lifted his port causing his spike to enter and exit the seeping tightness. Megatron pressed their frames together as he continued to shove into the smaller mech, thrusting his hips forward and up and pushing him down at the same time. The heat of the motions all rather hot, sexy and mind bobbling crazy.

Bumblebee wasn't letting loose any tears but he was crying out loud as he was forced into these violating activities. His port was aching so much that he thought he would never be able to walk again because of the warlord's size. Bumblebee even tried releasing one of his servos to push against Megatron's armor causing it to flex and groan from his attempts of getting away.

Megatron let out a low groan of approval as the little servos touched him all over, the strength not enough to push him away though. He hissed and clenched his denta as pleasure shot up his body and racked his processor in dazed emotions. The autobot was so sweet and tight.

Bumblebee's optics spun back and forth, shrinking in size from the fear and distress and then growing from the pleasure and 'good' feels. He didn't feel too disgusted with himself because he knew that he couldn't help it and he just hoped his friends would understand that also.

Megatron let out a spitting roar as he overloaded inside the young mech, his transfluid sputtering out and filling the mech he held. He hugged the scout closer to him as he used this last forceful thrust to his advantage making them both share the over impressive load together.

Bumblebee let out a line of embarrassing, pleasurable beeps, whirs, cries and buzzes as he overloaded as well. His port still cramping from abuse but delighted by the thrill. Primus he felt so disgusting and weak, just wanting to take this weight and burden off his friends' shoulders.

Megatron started gasping out in shuddering intakes while his venting worked to cool him down from the amazing overload. His optics were closed as he started to lose his grip on the whimpering autobot, all his limbs threatening to convulse and ripple to the ground. But he stood straighter and composed himself enough to go head and drop the bot in the dirt.

Bumblebee landed with a loud 'oof' noise coming out in further static as he fell roughly on his bottom causing pain to indulge his body. His port was screaming now that the pleasure faded and his spark was beating rapidly inside his chest.

Optimus had yelled all mighty and almost broke free from Breakdown at the disgraceful show before him. He wanted to terminate Megatron for the first time in his life now that he's done this to one of his fellow team members.

Megatron closed his interface panel after his spike retracted and he turned to attention, studying all the pained, sad, shamed or remorseful expressions on each of the autobots' faces. Then before anyone knew it or thought they seen it coming, Megatron fired up his purple fusion cannon and pointed dead center in front of Bumblebee's head. "You have two choices, Optimus Prime," he declared after whispers of concern rang through the air.

Optimus glared but did not throw up his rampage just yet, if there was a chance he could save his team and Bumblebee then he would cooperate. "And what would those choices be, Megatron?" he asked in a hateful tone but fully aware of the situation.

Megatron grinned but his optics showed a different emotion as he motioned for Knockout and Soundwave to come and hold the yellow prisoner. He then walked off towards the down prime and lifted his servo outwards, hips swaying in arrogance. "Since you care about this young scout so much and since he is willing to do anything in return for you, I will be much obliged to give you a chance to spare him."

"Just speak your mind, Megatron," Optimus almost spat as he moved forward some, testing his restraints, "What are my choices?"

Megatron stood straight, "Well since you asked, Optimus Prime, you can just sit there and watch as all of my warriors take him until his spark dies out before your very optics." He turned around and faced his men before him, their faces glazed with lust over doing such a wonderfully cruel act. "Or, Optimus Prime," he turned back around and leaned into the smaller mech's face, "You can take him out in front of your entire team."

Optimus felt his optics drop at that, not sure what to do at the moment from the horrible choices he was given. The first thought he was able to process however was defiantly not to let the first option even be thinkable. He needed to save his team and if he could get out of these bindings then he would take chances of doing so. Plus... anything to get Bumblebee to safety.

"It is your choice, Optimus Prime," Megatron leaned back and acted calm and patient, "whatever you decide..."

"I have made my decision, Megatron," Optimus declared in his proud leadership voice, "the second option."

Megatron smiled evilly and hissed, "Splendid, Optimus Prime, absolutely splendid." He started walking away towards his second in command, Dreadwing. "This should be entertaining to watch."

Optimus glared as he was set free by Breakdown, trying his hardest to just calm down and not attack. Not without backup or a sanctioned plan. He needed to act calm, submissive and playing along with the game while he processed. Shaking off the decepticons servos on him, Optimus started walking to his youngest team member. "Bumblebee," he said in a worried and yet alerted tone.

Bumblebee looked up at his leader when the two cons' left his backside and he beeped wobbly and broken beeps. He had heard what Optimus's choice was but that didn't matter to him. All he cared about was all the danger he's possibly put the team through.

"Easy, Bumblebee, just calm down," Optimus crouched down in front of his youngest team member, ignoring his open port and spike. "None of this is your fault," Optimus tried encouraging while tilting the bot's helm upwardly to meet his assured optics, "You did nothing wrong."

Bumblebee nodded and let out a few more beeps as questions. He wasn't quite so sure about being taken by his own leader after what had just happened. Doesn't Optimus and the team think him disgusting for what just happened? Do they even want to help him after what's been done to him? It's his fault that any of this was happening right now!

"No, Bumblebee, none of this is any of your doing," Optimus said in a stern voice, "Megatron forced you and I and the team understand what you are going through as of this moment." He let go of his helm and placed his servo on top of his shoulder, "I will be as gentle as I can... if you proceed in giving me access to do such a thing."

Bumblebee let out simple beeps of submission and trust, saying apologies and sorrow filled whines. He offlined his optics when he felt the leader before him reach down and help guide him backside to the ground. Optimus was right, he was gentle.

Optimus hovered over Bumblebee with his legs resting on either side of his thighs, trying to ignore all the cons' around them. He reached up to the small bot's wounded door wing and very softly caressed the injury with care. "I will get you out of here, Bumblebee," Optimus said in an angry tone when the bot whimpered from pain, "I promise."

As Megatron gave the prime sometime to warm up to his young scout, all the decepticons' were retrieving orders from the warlord. Knockout was demanded to go fiddle with the purple and pink femme, Breakdown was more than happy to go play and torture his sworn enemy Bulkhead, Soundwave was ordered to watch and make sure nothing happened to Optimus and that leaves, "Shockwave."

The logical con slowly approached the warlord with his big gun swaying back and forth by his side. Smokescreen stared with a more fear filled expression as he watched that humongous cannon roam closer to him. Why was Megatron holding him in particular captive? Smokescreen did not know.

Dreadwing still had a good hold on the smaller autobot, making sure he did not struggle too much. If Dreadwing wanted struggles then he would merely hold onto the bot with a much meaner and rougher hold. He was just keeping him still for lord Megatron.

Shockwave walked up to the three, nodding once he was close to his master. "Lord Megatron," he greeted shortly after.

"Shockwave, I have a very fine task for you and Dreadwing to take," Megatron leaned his head to the side while gesturing to the young white mech. "That is... if you are up for it?"

"Whatever activities you wish me to do, Lord Megatron, I will oblige in cooperating," Shockwave answered simply.

"Good," Megatron smiled evilly, turning around to stand beside Shockwave and face the small autobot in Dreadwing's grasp. "Because this is your award, Shockwave, Dreadwing," He said before bending down to puff an x-vent of dust in the autobot's face, "as for you... consider it as punishment like all your other puny autobot friends'."

Smokescreen gasped and looked ahead of him once the two cons' shifted to the side. He wasn't in the line of autobots' anymore, in fact, he was far off to the side seeing the view from a half angle. Optimus was directly in front of his friends' and the decepticon scum' that were harassing them but Smokescreen was way off to the side. Everyone would have to turn their heads more backwardly to the side to see him.

Megatron made sure his two best cons' followed suit before he started stomping away to watch the show with Optimus and his scout. He didn't give the rest of his warriors' permission to follow further with their actions yet until he makes the next offer to Optimus. He did however, say that they could play with the rest of the autobots', opposing a great distraction.

Speaking of the team members, they all had stinky, disgusting, filthy con hands rubbing all over them causing their processers to become all mixed and unfocused. And with their oldest leader screwing their youngest team member right in front of them… yeah… that was plenty distracting.

Megatron had made it back just in time to see Optimus take out his own spike and begin to shove it into the smaller bot. Bumblebee was shaking and shuddering, the nice, soft and kind ministrations' of Optimus had helped to calm him down. But this was the hard part, Bee bracing himself for the impact but thank the allspark Optimus's spike wasn't as big or as seething as Megatrons.

Optimus hushed his young scout after whispering to him comforting things and still trying to ignore is molested team members as he continued. He was kneeled down, one of Bumblebee's legs laid over his bent knee while the other was pushed to the side. With a noted nod, Optimus very slowly and gently started to push in with his spike, feeling bad for how tight his young scout was. Being taken by Megatron must have really been bad...

On the other side, Smokescreen was gasping, his cooling fans turning on as he was stuck between two of the scariest cons' he had ever seen. They were strict, stern, easily demanding and expressionless as they handled him. He felt Dreadwing release his servos from behind his back as a test attempt.

Smokescreen knew not to escape because all his weapons being disabled and his friends all defenseless. He slowly let his arms fall down by his sides as his shoulders stiffened and his optics widened with sheer horror. Shockwave was right in front of him, his bigger form seeming as if it could squash his much smaller one. The sight causing him to shudder. Against Megatron, Smokescreen probably reached his chest but with Shockwave and Dreadwing he was about two helms shorter than them.

"You will obey or there will be minor consequences'," Shockwave said, his head barely nodding. His optic grew a darker shade of red that would match the devils skin if they even knew what a devil was.

Smokescreen didn't know what to do, but he did know that calling out for his team to make them aware would just cause more stress for their part. And although Shockwave was blocking his view, Smokescreen knew that the entire team was being forced to watch Optimus take Bumblebee. Yeah… he didn't wanna add more stress to that. But how was he going to get out of this situation? It wasn't fair!

"Y-yeah ok... I'll obey," Smokescreen tried not to stutter while looking into the purple mech's optic. Stalling.

Shockwave noted that this little mech in particular was very young and maybe not as shameless as some mechs' but still very inexperienced. Dreadwing could tell also and he couldn't feel more honored that Megatron was allowing him this opportunity. Both the cons' were actually excited about the actions they're getting to encounter the innocent bot in despite their sheer loyalty and single purpose in life.

Smokescreen nervously laughed some, "I mean hey… what better than taking orders from Megatron huh?" He tried acting cool and funny when really he was terrified and worried. "I couldn't imagine what it would be like if you guys were head of command!" He lifted his servo slightly in the air and that's when the cons' moved in.

Smokescreen gasped as his lifted servo was grabbed at while at the same time his door wings were gripped tightly. He then went as still as a tree, barely moving and stuck, terror stricken, fear bottled and processor trembling, fear fondled. He didn't want what happened to Bumblebee to happen to him! Primus no... What if Megatron made Optimus...?

Smokescreen started shaking, his armor rattling together like loose bolts in a toolbox. He was frightened, all his hope drained from his bottled packed fear, and his confidence gone. He felt a servo slide down his right wing causing him to shiver through all the shaking. His own servo was in the grasp of Shockwave and he looked down at the ground while very lightly giving a slight tug on his own servo but knew the con wouldn't release it.

He was fragged.

Dreadwing's expression looked angry, calm and almost pleased as he teased the sweet shivering door wings of the smaller bot. He was honored that Megatron was giving him this privilege on this glorious day of victory. Dreadwing ran his servo towards the center of Smokescreen's back, lapping over wires and digging his sharp digits between seams. Until suddenly he found a wire he could make out as a main stream wire he twirled one digit around it fondly.

Smokescreen had his optics shut softly, not wanting to experience this one bit and trying to be thankful that it just wasn't Megatron. Smokescreen had a crush on Optimus but he doubt the prime would want him after what's happened today. He was also thankful that he couldn't see what was going on in front of him between the rest of the team. Smokescreen frowned from the grief until suddenly he felt something shift inside his back.

Smokescreen squirmed and tried pulling away but to none avail, he was stuck with this unwanted pleasure building by friction. He made a face of hopelessness as he felt that servo shove into his armor, seeming to gently trace his transformation seams, wires and connectors. Then, all of the sudden, Smokescreen cried out in pain as one of his main energon lines were crush and sliced open. He had jerked so much that it caused him to shove into Shockwave some and then gasp again from the realization.

Shockwave grabbed the young autobot by the shoulders to keep him still while the other con did his work. Still as evil as he may be, he loved to calm his prey, make them think he won't hurt them, wait for the trust and then turn his back around. This autobot needed to be treated with care until Megatron does what he wished to him in the end.

When Dreadwing pulled his energon coated digits out, a big cup of energon and lubricant spilled out the damaged wires and ran down the bot's back. It was as if the bot had a bucket of energon thrown on him from behind-there was so much spilling out. The colors of pink and blue mixed together, running down the bot's leg and dripping to the ground.

Smokescreen whimpered, his back aching as he had tried reaching to hold it but ended up struggling. The pain was sharp and cruel, his systems heating up causing his cooling fans to act like a windmill inside his tiny body.

Shockwave processed the struggling autobot and asked in his deep tone, "What is it your servos desire to do?" He was getting angered by all the struggles.

"It…" Smokescreen x-vented and lowered his helm, "my... it hurts." He uttered, trying not to sound weak but the pain was a lot to bear. He could feel the river of energon running down is back, legs and even over his interface armor making him shake even more.

Shockwave looked up at Dreadwing who nodded at his silent command. Smokescreen quivered when he felt the same servo return to his injured back and brush over the wound. He feared Dreadwing damaging another area but he was so wrong. Dreadwing gently massaged the main wire he destroyed, firmly pressing bundles of manipulated wire between his soft digits. Smokescreen whimpered and slowly stopped his struggling, the feeling in his back numbing and becoming at the least bearable.

Dreadwing pulled his servo back out of the wound and trailed it downward towards more intimate armor plating. Smokescreen gasped and winced after the calming-being so relaxed and then startled. He felt his legs straighten to try and move his aft away from lingering servos. One thing that occurred to each one of the three... Smokescreen was dripping wet.

When Dreadwing groped and squeezed the autobot's aft and the wires around it, he elected a hiss of delight from within himself. Smokescreen shook and pleaded, "No… please, not that... please."

Smokescreen wasn't sure if he could take it from two cons', at least not in the way he was thinking. Maybe they would use him one at a time? Wouldn't that be a great deal of luck? Smokescreen wanted to roll his optics at the thought.

"Retrieve your intimate armor or we shall do so for you," Shockwave demanded as his grip grew slightly tighter on the autobot's shoulders.

Smokescreen opened his mouth to say something in protest but closed it in worry. He shook his helm instead, lips wobbling, body shaking, wings clattering together and aft fixing to be violated. He refused to do such a thing by himself. He maybe defenseless but he wasn't willing, not when it came to a bunch of scrap metal. He'd rather be forced then get the easy breezy treatment.

Shockwave didn't show much expression in his optic when he saw the autobot's clear stubbornness. He merely looked up at his partner and got a smirkish nod in return. Standing back away from the autobot, Shockwave watched as Dreadwing kicked him to the ground.

Smokescreen yelled out in pain but tried to be quiet for the most part, he didn't want the team worrying about him. He had this… right? Apart of him wanted to cry by his false confidence and failure of hope. He landed roughly on his servos and knees, reaching behind him to grasp at his injured back. Cringing as he pressed his servo against the wound under the space of his door wings, Smokescreen made a sound of pain.

From the autobots' they were all suffering watching Optimus take their youngest member while at the same time filthy decepticon servos rubbed all over them. No one else had been violated yet but that goes to show. They didn't hear their second youngest member's cries.

Dreadwing kneeled down behind the white autobot, causing him to gasp and try to crawl away. "Nu-uh," Dreadwing purred as he reached forward and grasped the bot's hips with small force.

It was enough to make Smokescreen whimper from fear and obey from anxiety. It wasn't the two cons' who had him panicked; it was the massive, silver shiny yet dark lord who gave him a warning glare from afar. Placing his servo back on the dirt, Smokescreen sighed and lowered his helm, knowing what was fixing to happen.

Shockwave peered down at the submissive bot and would reflect an evil, chill bringing, hope eating smirk if he had a mouth but instead, all he did was speak in all those scary ways. "I understand you are one for expressive amounts of 'chat' and that it is at times rather disturbing or unnerving."

Smokescreen looked up at the one opticed, purple con and frowned, not so much wanting to say anything now at this point. He felt too hopeless. Wincing as he felt servos rub over his aft, Smokescreen started to panic as things began happening all at once.

"Open your panel, autobot, or I shall pry it off myself," Dreadwing demanded from behind.

"I will put your mouth to its own proper uses," Shockwave stated before bending over some, making optic contact clear, "or in the case you carry; I will put you to 'better' uses." He reached down and retracted his interface armor with an unsatisfying snap.

Smokescreen had gazed back and forth between the two cons', his optics purified with horror and his processor too stunned to wanna process anything. In a way he was totally confused when really he knew exactly what was going on. Hesitantly, he sent a command through his armor and winced when the cool canyon wind hit his exposed nether region.

Dreadwing smirked, optics slanted inwardly from the eager and twisted want within himself. Having such advantage over a puny little autobot was absolutely gratifying to him. Plus the fact that Megatron allowed it. Dreadwing leaned forward, his digits reaching out to the open wound on the bot's lower back. He coated his digits in lubricant yet again and reached down to the exposed and open port of the young bot.

Smokescreen was too busy staring at Shockwave's sizeable spike aligned right in front of his face that he didn't process anything from behind his behind. Yet still it didn't take long for him to feel the prodding digit at his port and he jolted from the tingle.

Shockwave reached forward, grabbed the bot's helm while he wasn't paying attention and forced him to take his spike into his mouth. Smokescreen choked at first, mouth stretched and throat hit maliciously, but he tried regaining control over his reflexes.

Dreadwing almost chuckled as he shoved two digits into the tight, rendering and constricting port. "I believe this autobot is still quite innocent for his mere age... and size," he smirked devilishly.

Shockwave rumbled with satisfaction, helm nodding to agree as he liked it when Smokescreen struggled to take him. He liked it when the practical innocent bots' are taken for the first time by or right in front of him. "He is young and most likely has not experienced a single course of interface. It is most interesting and pleasuring to study his reaction now." He admitted while thrusting into the small little mouth.

Smokescreen couldn't help but feel lubricant try to seep out his optics as he was forced to swallow the big spike shoving into his mouth. He tried coping though, his glossa uncontrollably running on the underside of the spike he took and choking when it hit the back of his throat. He was trying his hardest to stay composed, his port aching from all the digits inside him.

Dreadwing was finished fingering for the time being and he unlatched his heated interface panel and scooted forward on his knees. He placed one servo on the bot's hip while using the other to guide his own spike inside that quivering entrance. The tip was met with the metal muscle and he growled from desperate wanting desire. Pushing in even more, he groaned as he felt those tight walls stretch even more to his own size, it clamping and squeezing around his spike like it was hungry.

Smokescreen started groaning, screaming around the spike in his mouth, optics wide and bright as he still tried not to cry. His port was as devastated as he was disgusted but none of that mattered compared to the leading pain he felt. He had to stop sucking for a moment, begging for Shockwave to give him a moment to get used to the feeling inside his port.

Shockwave watched as the white bot panted like his intake duct wasn't working. He saw him shaking like one of those organic things the humans' call a leaf and he reached down to cup the underside of his chin again.

Smokescreen winced, shoulders hunching up and back arching slightly as he felt the decepticon behind him start to move faster. He opened his optics when he sensed the con in front of him was trying to get his attention and frowned again. He leaned forward and opened his mouth, ready to take the spike again.

Shockwave and Dreadwing both proceeded in letting their selves unravel and enjoy something for once. Their loyalty and follow instincts shut down for a moment as they got lost in the lust of the situation. Both made moaning and gasping noises that no one had ever heard them process before because they were so expressionless and emotionless.

Dreadwing started thrusting in harder and faster, groaning as his spike was so heatedly held between those contrasting walls. He leaned over the bot and grasped both his hips, spike firmly planted inside him as he allowed shots of pleasure to zip through him. He thought he could just crash right there.

Shockwave let out a few timid groans of static before actually allowing himself to process a real moan of pleasure. The bot working on his spike didn't seem to shy now but more determined as if wanting to prove a point. He had never felt the emotion lust towards anybody else before until now.

Smokescreen could feel lubricant seep out of his port and down his legs, wetting him and making it somewhat easier for the con to move inside him. He was feeling some sort of pleasure although it was faint, unwanted and small. He tried not to cry still, somehow managing as he was forced so mercilessly into this position.

Dreadwing thrust into the smaller mech one more time before growling out loud in pleasure as an overload crashed through his entire frame. Rocking hips and tugging waist, Dreadwing felt his body convulse with huge rippling waves of enjoyment.

Shockwave fell with his partner, overload bursting through his body as he felt the autobot give him a forward long suck on his spike. He let out a muffled sounding moan as his body shook slightly from pleasure.

Smokescreen felt both the cons' settle inside him and it was rather irritating to him because he couldn't move all that well. Good thing he didn't need to breathe, he thought. Testing his restraints, Smokescreen tugged a little.

Dreadwing pulled out and Shockwave pulled out, both their cooling fans alive and pleased senseless. They peered at each other with nods' of agreement before helping the autobot stand up to his feet.

Smokescreen stumbled, not pleasured and disgusted, frightened and fearful. He was worried that they were going to kill him now since he was useless and had already been completely wasted. His feet were unstable and he cried out in pain from his abused port.

Dreadwing opened his own spark chamber watching as the other con worked on opening the autobot's own.

Smokescreen opened his optics in a flash, not expecting them to have any interest in his spark. Primus, this was even worse than he imagined. What if they planned to tear his spark out? That wouldn't feel so good and he's already been forced through more pain than necessary.

"I can tell that you did not experience any sort of pleasure from our ministrations," Shockwave pointed out in the clearest of all tones, "and so it would not be fair to leave you in such a state when you have pleased us so."

Smokescreen raised one opticbrow and openly gawked at the purple con, his expression very confused. "Wha?" he tried asking but before he knew it, he was spun around vastly and then pulled into a severe hug by Dreadwing. Then electric charge filled his chest from the contact of his spark pressed against the older mech's spark.

Dreadwing gasped, his arms wrapped around the squirming autobot tightly keeping them pressed together. He felt the charge radiate and fulfill his insides with more pleasure than he thought was possible. Smokescreen felt like he was going to offline the pain was that bad and the charge was working him up so much. He looked up at the sky, arms weak and legs wobbly.

Their sparks being merged together like that was enough to cause the con to overload yet again, but the autobot was not so easily satisfied. If anything, Smokescreen was more terrified and pained then he had ever been in his life. The way their sparks burned together creating brightening lighted friction he couldn't bear.

After Dreadwing was done, he let go of the limp bot and lifted him out for the other to take. Shockwave grabbed the white mech by the shoulders and turned him around and fiercely pressed their sparks together. Smokescreen muffled his scream in Shockwave's neck, tears finally bursting out and rivering down his cheeks. The charge enlightened and a small growing tingle of pleasure pumped through his burning spark.

Megatron watched from a small distance away, enjoying the sight before him. He had just finished watching the leader of the autobots' overload without will, and commanded the vehicons to hold him yet again. After he watches this little tryout with his two most loyal cons' he will command the rest of his followers to do what pleases them.

Smokescreen wasn't able to feel the pleasure because of the pain, fear, force and power running through his spark. He didn't know why they were doing this to him, but they were. He didn't know what this would do but he soon felt himself going slurry and the world went blurry. He felt hollow and tickled as if in a dream or high, everything spinning and falling out of place.

Megatron grumbled with laughter, enjoying the wondrous sight in front of him until a different sound averted in the air. He scowled, growling deeply while looking behind him at a warship that he remembered belonging to the one they called Wheeljack. "Get them!" he commanded loudly, everyone turning to look at the upcoming news. "Take down their ship; destroy the passengers if you must! Just make sure they do not come near our victory!"

Dreadwing and Shockwave ran away along with Soundwave and a bunch of vehicon troopers. They raced to get to the ship before it gets to them. All the other decepticons remained in their positions, holding and restraining the autobot captives.

Smokescreen laid offline in the dirt. Optics cold and soulless looking. Body hollow and empty. Spark abused and mutilated. Innocence neglected, stolen and violated. There was only one last emotion he felt before passing. . . sadness.


	2. Chapter 2

Smokescreen's optics slowly started to online making a buzzing sound while doing so. His body was aching like he had landed on top of titanium before a bunch of boulders collapsed on top of him. With his cramping armor and groaning gears, Smokescreen wasn't sure if he even wanted to be out of recharge. The pain was overbearing and when he finally started to process what had caused it in the first place, he shrunk in on himself.

Smokescreen was in his own quarters cuddled up on his berth, terrified as he remembered the events that happened however long ago. He didn't know how long he had been in stasis shock or recharge but it felt like a pretty long time. Smokescreen had expected to be dead-offline permanently after what happened to him.

Shaking, Smokescreen went back over how those two energon thirsty cons' molested him. How they had forced him to play in their sneaky and disgusting game. All the pain dusted in clouds of fear and drenched in lubricant tears that he thought he had the armor not to shed. How bad it had all hurt. Shockwave stretching his mouth while Dreadwing stretched his port.

Smokescreen lifted one shaky servo up to his lips and rubbed them, noting that they were sore and dry. He could almost feel and taste Shockwave making him wanna burst out in tears again. Every time he tried moving around, his aft would ache from pain because of the torture it endured. Smokescreen didn't know if he could forget something like this. He didn't even know if it was forgettable.

When he shifted to set up on the berth, not only did his aft groan in pain, but his chassis did also. Gasping, Smokescreen reached up to rub at the sore material and that's when he remembered the worst part of his experience. When Shockwave had opened his spark chamber and then they both forced him to touch their sparks together. That was the worst pain he had ever felt in his life.

Smokescreen wasn't sure what they did to him when they touched his spark with their own but he was sure it wasn't good. If the pain he was feeling right now was this bad then he needed to talk to Ratchet. He needed to talk to everybody, make sure they're all right including Bumblebee and Optimus. Primus knows what all happened after the darkness took over Smokescreen.

"Ahhhh," Smokescreen grunted as he stood up from the berth, his body aching all over. Taking a moment to get used to the pain, he finally started walking very carefully to his door.

Smokescreen started wincing down the hall until he saw one bot he thankfully recognized. "Ratchet!" he said happily in a sigh because his voice tried cracking. "Doc, am I glad to see you!" he grinned and started walking a little faster.

Ratchet turned around from the control screen and shushed the approaching mech behind him. "Would you be quiet Smokescreen," he growled lowly, "I am busy at the moment. Whatever you have to say I'm sure it can wait until I care."

Smokescreen shook his helm and even took a couple hurtful steps back. What was that for? "Doc..." he said in a confused and weary voice, "I don't think this can wait... it's my spark chamber. You see I-

"Enough, Smokescreen," Ratchet waved his servo through the air to silence the white mech. "I scanned your body when we escorted you here; nothing his wrong except for a few dents on your wrist from minor decepticon restraining."

Smokescreen shook his helm and tried expressing his own opinion, "But I think this is more serious, doc…"

"Serious?!" Ratchet asked sarcastically with an unbelievable expression, "Bumblebee has just been violated by the leader of the decepticons and you wanna talk to me about serious?!" He pointed at the rest of the autobots' setting together in front of the exit. Bumblebee was curled up into a ball leaning against Optimus's arms. Everyone else was okay it seemed like... except for Bumblebee.

"But Ratchet I was violated too," he faced the scowling bot with the suspicious snarl, "by Dreadwing and that con with the one optic and cannon thingy. They both had me at the back of the group where no one could see me and then-

"Smokescreen when I say enough then that means ENOUGH!" Ratchet shouted, his servo almost reaching out to punch or slap the dramatic bot.

All the other autobots' detangled their selves away from they're little grieve circle and started wandering over to the fight. "Ratchet, what is wrong?" Optimus asked once close enough.

The old medic made that sound of annoyance/ridiculousness while pointing at the younger mech. "Smokescreen is trying to make up stories saying that he had been violated by Dreadwing and Shockwave." He sounded disgusted and angry, expressing it outwardly and not caring.

Arcee placed her servos on her hips and glared at the young bot as well. "Really Smokescreen?" She asked hatefully, "Bumblebee just got rapped by Megatron of all mechs' and you have to make up stories like that? Don't you think we're going through enough stress as it is?" She took a step forward, fist balled.

"Although this harsh treatment is not entirely necessary, I cannot help but agree with Arcee, Smokescreen," Optimus declared in his calm voice but disappointed face. "We do not have time to give you the attention you desire. We must work on giving Bumblebee the proper care he needs so that we can end this war together."

Smokescreen looked at Bumblebee who had the same expression as he did. Pained. "B-but Optimus... sir, I'm not lying. I would never lie about something like this, not when there's a war and chaos going on." He tried acting reasonable with the truth practically leaking from his vocal cords.

"Smokescreen that is enough," Optimus Prime demandingly announced in a twisted angry tone. "I do not want to hear any more of these lies for the duration of voyage is that understood?" he asked with his fist balled at his sides.

Smokescreen flinched, afraid that everybody was out to hit him. He wasn't lying though. He would never lie about something like this and he would positively never lie to Optimus. It crushed his spark when or if he was angry at him like this. Body slumping and processor giving up, Smokescreen sighed in a lost manner and mumbled, "Yes sir."

Optimus nodded at the smaller soldier and wrapped his arm around Bumblebee before leading him off with comforting words. The rest of the team followed him except for Ratchet who shook his helm disappointingly at the white mech before turning his back to him.

Smokescreen felt so much hurt run through him. His spark was now throbbing with both physical and emotional pain. He felt as if all his wires had been tied in single knots and then forced to blow up inside his chest. He shook a little, optics blurring from wanting to cry as he watched Optimus become and faint and very sad memory. The leader didn't care about him and probably never did from the start and besides... it seems like Bumblebee is Optimus's favorite anyways. Smokescreen was just a distraction; everyone hated him.

Holding his venting, Smokescreen walked away quietly until he was in the hallway and transformed. As he sped off, a small part him hoped to hear the sound of one of his team members shouting for him to come back. But nothing answered him besides the dust he blew up in the air behind him.

Smokescreen wanted attention yes but that was only because he needed it, not desired it. He wanted Optimus to hold him and say comforting things to him while showing his concern and love of a leader. Smokescreen wondered why they didn't believe him in the first place and the more he thought the more he got stuck on one reasonable explanation. "They hate me."

Smokescreen repeated that in his processor the entire time he drove through the canyon, his optic getting dusty from the dust and wind. Everything he thought about was making his helm hurt and ache in unwanted pain. He tried to forget it though but still... how do you forget something like that?

Smokescreen came to a stop on top of a random mountain rock and transformed when he was sure the coast was clear. He didn't care to set down though he wanted to, but even this hot desert and boiling rock flooded with dry sun tears made of sand could not warm his cold spark. He felt empty and full at the same time. All his body parts still hurting from yesterday and the memories don't even compare. Smokescreen knew he would have nightmares and sad dreams every night... he just knew it. He could already picture them right now in the back of his processor.

Any happy and lustful memories Smokescreen owned of Optimus were now all becoming faint and fainter. They no longer sat as bright encouraging lights inside his head. They were now dim and wilted like dried up flowers after they were plucked from the stem or ripped by a storm. The memories might be faint but not forgotten and as much as Smokescreen wanted to forget, he knew he couldn't. He was mortified.

There were also those new memories of Dreadwing and Shockwave that were sure to do more than just plague his processor. How come the team couldn't tell that something bad happened to him also? Wasn't it bloody obvious?! Smokescreen would think so by how he remembered his spark chamber being opened and his body knocked out.

"Hey newbie," someone suddenly said from behind making Smokescreen jump and turn around quickly. A white and grey mech raised his servos in surrender while laughing slightly, "Easy kid, it's just me."

"Oh, Wheeljack," Smokescreen sighed in relief. He tried composing himself enough to talk to the wrecker without emotion or showing off his own concern. "I didn't see you back at the base, where were you buddy?"

Wheeljack started walking closer as he pointed his thumb out behind him, "Ah I was just working on the-grouch me out- Magnus's ship. Figured he could use the upgrades... too bad he won't let me work on him, the old order hoarder." Once he was at a spot where there was enough space between them to be comfortable he asked, "Why you out here, newbs? I thought you'd be back at the base getting affectionated by Prime and his gang like Bumblebee is?"

Smokescreen grew confused at the last part and squinted his optics. Did that mean what he thinks it means? Surely Wheeljack didn't know about his encounter with the two forceful cons'... "I..." Smokescreen gazed down shamefully, "I just wanted to be alone."

Wheeljack crossed his arms and asked in an unbelievable tone of voice, "Why? Wouldn't Optimus and his beloved team members want to keep ya as close to base as possible after an encounter like that?"

Smokescreen was gapped mouthed, optics wide and spark tingling with hope. "How? W-why... how did you know about that?" he asked through a bunch of screwed up stutters, voice cracking out loud.

Wheeljack raised a ridiculous opticbrow and said clearly, "It was obvious, kid."

"But no one else will believe me when I try to tell them!" Smokescreen burst out with his servos lifted. "They say I'm only trying to 'get the attention on me' when I'm not!"

"Calm down, kid," Wheeljack waved his servos in the air, "I'm sure there's a reasonable ugh... well reason why they're acting that way. We just gotta think."

Smokescreen looked around mindlessly, thinking or at least thinking about only one thing. "They hate me," he voiced out with a sarcastic smile and a shrug.

"No they don't," Wheeljack said randomly, "Optimus's spark is too soft to hate anyone not even Megatron."

Smokescreen didn't know if he could believe that or not. He was sure after what happened yesterday there would be a lot Optimus hated Megatron for. "Then what is it?" he asked like it was stupid, "why are they treating me like I'm Starscream begging for energon on my knees?"

"They might not have seen the whole thing, kid," Wheeljack pointed out in a more confidant tone. Then he shifted on his peds to explain better, "when me and doc-bot came riding in I thought it was obvious when we seen all the decepticreeps trying to screw the entire team. Guess sunny's optics were stuck on Prime and squeaks a lot while mine drifted to the mech I wanted to scrap the most. Dreadwing."

Smokescreen thought that made a little bit of sense but not enough to get a clear and reasonable answer by. "What happened then?" he asked for more explanations.

"Cons' heard us comin when I put the ship on turbo speed and that's when the action started happening wrecker style. Me, Ratchet and Magnus fought off as much con aft as we could, getting the team set free one servo at a time. You were unconscious though... cons' must have done something pretty cruel to ya."

"But you saw it though." Smokescreen sated more than asked, "You know they did something cruel to me."

"Well yeah," Wheeljack answered in an obvious tone, "When the mech you wanna tear to shreds the most in life is screwing one of your best buddies it's pretty hard to miss." He cocked his head up while studying the violated mech's frown.

Smokescreen didn't know how to sum it all out then. If everyone hates him then they sure are expressing it at their finest outcome. But maybe there was a slight chance they actually didn't see them? When one thought occurred, Smokescreen gasped and took a step closer to Wheeljack, "When you guys found me was my spark chamber open?"

Wheeljack rolled his shoulders and shook his helm, "No, but that doesn't prove anything, kid. Dreadwing and Shockwave are two of the smartest Megatron aft kissers out there; they would know to clean up their mess before it's cleaned for them."

"Is that why they took me behind the group... so that I wouldn't be spotted?" Smokescreen asked shyly because it was embarrassing.

"I wouldn't doubt it," Wheeljack thought absentmindedly for a moment, "but I can't promise anything. Cons' are weird."

Smokescreen drifted off, gazing at the reddish orange dirt and all the tiny earth pebbles. He couldn't process what anything that happened meant. Why he was taken so privately and why he seemed to be punished from trying to tell the truth. He was worried and confused, sad that nobody believes him or cares to.

"Hey," Wheeljack said in a gentler tone than he normally uses. It was enough to get the other mech's attention. "Why don't we go to my ship and talk things out. I got some high grade I stole from grouch Magnus; we could set and figured all this slag out together. Whata ya say?"

Smokescreen thought the offer sounded rather nice and maybe even a little too kind for a wrecker, but he was brightened by it. "Sure," he answered simply with a vague smile.

"Sweet," Wheeljack turned around and motioned for the bot to follow, "Hope you don't got soft fueling tanks, newbs, this stuff can really crash your serenity."

Smokescreen walked a little faster after the wrecker. "You really think I have serenity right now?" he asked with a sarcastic laugh.

"Probably not," Wheeljack answered in a perky tone, not even sparing a glance back at the other bot. "If you had any then that would be even more fragged up then you getting fragged," he commented and tried not to shudder.

"But isn't it best to have serenity?" Smokescreen asked with his helm down, "Y-you know... so I can calm my gears and end this?"

Wheeljack laughed, "Trust me, kid, these kinds of things don't have an end and no amount of serenity can fix that." His face strengthened into an angry glare and his steps grew rougher, "I've lived through enough wars to learn that the hard way... the wrecker way."

Smokescreen felt some remorse for someone else besides himself for the first time after that happened. He did feel bad for Bumblebee yes but that bot was getting all the attention one could ever want. "Yeah," he mumbled lowly, staring at the backside of the older mech.

"Don't stress it, newbie," Wheeljack said in a calm voice while looking back at the lost bot. He continued walking while talking, "Even if the team doesn't believe ya, I'll get you all fixed up. It's the least I can do."

Smokescreen looked up just in time to see the other mech look away making him wonder just how long he had been staring at him. "Thanks Wheeljack," he said in a timid mumble, "really appreciate it." He liked Wheeljack as a friend and only a friend but never had he expected him to be the only one who remotely cared. Smokescreen just hoped they could get the team to understand is all.

"No prob," Wheeljack slowed down as soon as he made it to a slope where they would have to climb down. His ship was hidden about fifty feet down between two large canyon cliffs. When the younger mech stopped beside him he uttered, "Was a lot harder to climb." He gazed over at the bot and smirked when he saw a frightened expression, "want me to carry ya, hun?"

Smokescreen made a face of confusion and shook his head before quickly looking over at Wheeljack. "Why'd you call me 'hun'?" he asked like it was the bigger deal.

Wheeljack shrugged, "Why not? And I don't think that's your biggest concern right now anyway." He winked at the shorter mech.

"Ughhh... no thanks, I-I can carry myself," Smokescreen nodded with a fake grin. It was only a small jump... what's he got to lose?

"Whatever you say, hun," Wheeljack smiled sideways before leaping forward and jumping off the edge.

Smokescreen gasped and ran to the ledge making it in time to see the other had landed safely on his peds. Sighing, Smokescreen took a few steps back and made the same motion, landing on his feet with exact precision. Standing up, he then simply started walking over to the jaw dropped mech.

Wheeljack watched the smaller bot jump and land with complete and utter precision he would give a ten out of ten for. "Nice to know ya ain't timid, kid," he said while turning around and acting as if nothing happened. He was a wrecker; he wasn't supposed to let on what amused him openly.

Smokescreen humped and smiled while walking after the tough seeming wrecker. He wasn't one for thinking too highly of Wheeljack but after today he might just be packing in some high grade appreciation. "So how'd you steal this high grade from Ultra Magnus?" he asked when the other mech opened the door of his ship.

Wheeljack snorted, "Way too easily for him being a commander and what not." He led the way through his ship to an old locked storage compartment. He disabled the code and slid open the door before reaching in and handing out a cube.

Smokescreen took the cube and studied it close up. It was a darker blue than normal which wasn't that impressing because he had drank plenty of high grade back at the academy. Smokescreen lifted the cube up to his lips and took a drink; tasted the same but felt thick. And it didn't fail to make him cough.

"Drink up, kid," Wheeljack said while wandering off to the ship's control settings, "We gotta lot of discussion heading our way-your way."

* * *

 

Ratchet was screwing with a couple loose bolts on the ground bridge terminal when he heard a request pop up for a real ground bridge. "Where is your current position?" he asked the wrecker through the comm. link.

"On top of base... The usual spot," he heard Wheeljack reply simply.

"Well you'll just have to come in through the back entrance," Ratchet grouched demandingly, "I am busy working on the portal." He was shocked not to hear any cocky or joking replies as the silence triggered a worry sensation inside him. He almost thought about sending the team outside to check on Wheeljack.

Ratchet gazed up from his work at the rest of the team and frowned. He had done his best to fix Bumblebee's door wing but the mental damage was unstable. He hoped Optimus could help the youngest bot with what years of wise experience he had. Being so lost in thought, Ratchet almost forgot about Wheeljack.

"Sup doc," Wheeljack greeted while strolling up behind the old medic. "Catch some irony today? Or are you just cranky?"

Ratchet rolled his optics and turned around, "I do not have time for any of your foolishness right now, Wheeljack."

"And I don't have any time for yours either, Ratch," Wheeljack said back in a rumbling anger filled tone. He crossed his arms when the medic turned back around to look at him.

"Excuse me?" Ratchet didn't get to finish.

"Remember yesterday when we saved team Primes aft?" he asked while pointing his thumb over his shoulder. The team was still setting across the room, grieving for Bee or trying to make him feel better.

Ratchet looked at the wrecker and answered, "For the most part, yes. Why do you ask?"

Wheeljack cocked his hip out to the side, "Well you missed one small detail, doc." Smokescreen stepped out from behind him and stood weary of results.

"And?" Ratchet asked like this was stupid, his shoulders rose in carelessness, "The only thing that happened to Smokescreen was a few ripped wires and bondage dents. We all have them."

Wheeljack shook his head disappointingly, "Thought ya had better networking then that."

"Well if you're such a genius then please explain to me what detail I missed," Ratchet crossed his arms the same time Wheeljack unfolded his.

"Smoke here was violated too," he gestured to the white mech behind him who turned his head away in shame. "Happened behind the group by Dreadwing and Shockwave. No witnesses but me but I had figured you saw it too but apparently not. Typical medic." He muttered with true disgust written in his tone.

Ratchet looked idly at the wrecker before widening his optics when he looked over at Smokescreen. Instead of pointing out their lies, he decided that he would consider this fact to be adequate. "You said something to me earlier about your spark chamber, am I correct?" he asked Smokescreen who nodded in return. Ratchet motioned with his servo for the white bot to step closer.

Smokescreen stopped in the spot where the medic had pointed and waited for him to return from his wandering off. "Open your spark chamber," Ratchet commanded while fiddling with a small devise in his servos, "I will need to do a scan over your pulses to check if anything is as it shouldn't be."

Smokescreen hesitated greatly at first before wincing as he opened his chamber. He clenched his optics shut and gritted his teeth openly as the doc did a quick scan over his chassis. Ratchet read the results on the scanner after the beep echoed on through his audios and he gawked. "Awhh, by the Allspark," he took an uncontrollable step back.

"Ratchet, what is wrong?" Optimus asked from behind all of them.

Smokescreen gasped and slammed his chamber shut, stepping back and accidentally bumping into Wheeljack. He turned around and whispered 'sorry' rather quickly before facing the leader again. Smokescreen was worried and embarrassed.

Ratchet handed Optimus the scanner and announced shakily, "malfunctions. . ." He looked away very shamefully, "By Dreadwing and Shockwave."

Optimus studied the medic's expression through his own blank and unreadable one. His optics sinking back down to the scanner in which explained everything he needed to know. Now it should be something everyone needs to know. "Smokescreen has been forced into bonding with Dreadwing and Shockwave," he spoke aloud.

The entire team fell into guilt bathed silence, each one of them having a regretful gleam in their optics. Optimus looked up at the second youngest of the team without much more than a thin frown and upset optics. "My greatest apologies Smokescreen, for my unfair disbelief and inconsiderable actions... I was wrong to have doubted you, much less ignored you." the leader spoke honorably.

Smokescreen rubbed the back of his neck while gazing between Ultra Magnus and Optimus, Bulkhead and Arcee, and Wheeljack and Ratchet. He then stopped and looked at Bumblebee who seemed more shamed than anybody. Smokescreen just continued to stare, his processor hurt and angry but also flooding with sadness.

Bumblebee lifted out his servo and stared sadly, uttering a few beeps in return before looking away.

"It's alright Bee," Smokescreen barely managed a fake smile, "I had it under control." He tried keeping his optics away from the leader or medic. In fact, the only mech he wanted to look at was Wheeljack.

Bumblebee's optics stated that he was frowning behind his mouth guard. He looked at the white mech and buzzed a concerned question.

Smokescreen rubbed the back of his neck again, "Nah it didn't hurt. . . that bad." He laughed nervously and knew everyone could tell out his lies. He gestured to Bumblebee with another nervous laugh, "I mean Megatron huh, that's gotta be way worse than Dreadwing and Shockwave right? I bet you didn't feel any pleasure either huh?" He casted off an easy smile.

Bumblebee blushed and looked away at Optimus, his silence providing the shameful answer hidden within himself. Yes, he felt pleasure even by the monstrous warlord.

When Smokescreen's smile fell into a grimace, Ratchet stepped in, "Nevertheless we must take extreme caution now that the decepticons have a way of locating us."

Smokescreen shook his helm and casted a shocked face towards the medic. "What do you mean they can locate us? How?" he asked in a worried tone.

Optimus stepped forward, "Smokescreen I understand that you are still very young and do not yet withhold the true factors for rightfully knowing this information, but now that it has happened to you it is best that you know."

"Optimus- not that I'm against your regulations or anything- but I don't think we have time for cutesy sparking talk," Arcee crossed her arms and scowled at the white mech before stating her opinion. "Decepticons- Dreadwing and Shockwave- Megatron's most loyal allies- would not bond with an autobot and risk giving up their true facilities... I'd say Smokescreen plotted this from the beginning."

Smokescreen almost jumped back as he processed the untrue and obscured words. "What?!" he asked in a crazy tone before stating clearly, "I didn't plot anything!"

"Smokescreen calm yourself," Optimus demanded while standing in between the two, "Arcee silence yourself."

Ratchet sighed in frustration and signaled the young mech's attention, "A spark bond is something that autobots or decepticons do with each other in order of creating a never ending friction between each other. This would result in feeling one another's emotions continuously or if the bond is strong enough you can navigate one another."

"That explains everything!" Bulkhead cut in with surprise and realization, "Showing up here in a con pod, stealing the phase shifter, getting us busted by the cons!" His voice grew angrier the more he pointed out.

Smokescreen took another step back with an utterly fearful and confused expression on his face. "Guys, w-what are talking about? I wouldn't do anything like that!" He stood up for belief in the truth he spoke.

Optimus sighed and rubbed the top of his forehead as if he had a helmache, the tension in the air almost enough to make him scream. Sadly however, he was processing what Bulkhead and Arcee said.

Smokescreen almost choked as he studied the prime's expression, "You believe me right, Optimus?" All the sudden those acid flared tears threatened to spill again and he blinked to insure they didn't fall out.

"Smokescreen," Optimus said in an discouraging voice as he stood straighter and bared down at the smaller bot, "I am not announcing that I agree with neither Bulkhead's nor Arcee's opinions, but I do follow Ratchet's words. Having you around could result in the finding of our bases location."

Smokescreen felt his spark drop and his face twist, "S-so what? You're just going to kick me off team Prime?" He balled his fist up and raised his voice, "After everything I've done for you!"

The team fell into a still silence that would forever more echo on inside Smokescreen's spark. The silent shots from everyone's hidden guns scorched his soul. He felt like a walking case of rust that most hated and few disliked. When the sound of a ground bridge swirling to life sizzled Smokescreen's audios, blackness filled in all the spaces between friendship.

Smokescreen gasped once he seen the swirly vortex and silently pondered how long it would take to offline from disappointment. He stared up at Ultra Magnus, Wheeljack and Bumblebee to see if they had any protest but they all just looked away. The last thing Smokescreen laid optics on was Optimus, "I don't know why I ever liked you, respected you. . ."

Glaring at the floor, Smokescreen transformed as fast as he could and drove in through the portal. As soon as his wheels met warm pavement, he kept on zooming away not paying attention to anything behind him if there even was anything behind him. His spark felt like the empty stem of a dandelion that had been used to make its wish and then casted down onto the cruel, rough, cold stone ground. Wilted and unwanted. The part that was no good. The thing that is not wanted. And the piece that does not belong in the puzzle.

Smokescreen left dribbles of lubricant on the road as he drove on crying. They would spill out the windshield sprayer and he would wipe them away with the windshield wipers. Smokescreen would swerve on the road every now and then but would still keep his speed. It would make Optimus proud. He would tell himself if he cared anymore which he did but it was care he knew to be wasteful of his time.

Smokescreen had driven for three full hours before coming to a stop beside an old train rail he had noticed was never used because of the broken tracks. He stopped beside the rail looking both ways for evident people before transforming. He stretched his aching limbs out and rubbed his tired optics while venting in a calming intake.

Smokescreen had driven from one single wet and pouring state into another dry and green state. It was a nice state, easy to drive on and full of never ending fields of green. Peaceful and lonely like he himself was. Well... maybe he wasn't peaceful but he sure was lonely.

Looking up at the stars, Smokescreen watched as countless bright stars conversed and chatted together, some in pairs and other in crowds. He scanned them like they were just there. It's not like they were any different from the grass or the tracks or the clouds or himself. But there was one star in particular that made him loose his tiny smile.

It was a star that sat off to the side all by its self in the distance. It looked like it had been casted off to the side like it had failed to make someone's wish come true. Smokescreen didn't make any emotion towards it. Nothing more than a sigh. It was lonely and he was lonely; that was enough to feel the same.

Once Smokescreen sat down beside the track he jerked faintly when he felt a warm and relaxing feeling running through his spark. He hadn't felt any positive or helpful emotions all day so what could this be? Was it the star telling him that he wasn't alone in this world? Smokescreen managed an actual smile and although it was small. . . It was real.

"I guess I am fragged up, Jackie," he wanted to laugh but just continued to smile simply as he laid back. He rested his helm on the small hill that supported the rails and allowed his body to relax comfortably. He closed his optics and mumbled something before falling into recharge, "I do feel serenity."


	3. Chapter 3

"Ahh," Smokescreen hissed when the morning sun casted it's loving gaze into his own. He shielded his optics and groaned from being woken up so blindingly. When he felt the soft tickle of needed to be cut grass and the cool chime of rusty rails he sat up in confusion.

Smokescreen made small noises of confusion while looking around. He almost wished he were back on Cybertron asleep, thinking that this has all been a dream. But he wasn't. He was stuck on earth, violated by cons', abandoned by Optimus and alone. The pain in his spark enough to make him want to melt.

He felt this hurt running through him and it was the most painful thing he remembered ever feeling. Thus being so young Smokescreen wasn't supposed to feel this kind of pain. It was unnatural and cruel. And for his team to just kick him out aimlessly with nowhere to go and no energy to move... Smokescreen clenched his shaking fist and offlined his optics as waves of hurt, sadness and shame pumped through him.

The sun was barely above the eastern field in front of Smokescreen, its warmish yellow smile hardly seen for more than a couple managed seconds. Beautiful and welcoming at the same time. Smokescreen wondered if this giant ball of light was what was causing his spark to warm up. Like last night, nice warm, calming emotions filled his spark.

Confused, Smokescreen reached up and rubbed his chest for a few nanokliks. "What is that?" he asked himself out loud. He knew he couldn't be feeling these kinds of emotions at a time like this so what was it? What was making him feel so calm and relaxed? Careless.

Smokescreen found himself actually enjoying the sweet feeling as he laid back, servos behind his helm as he gazed back at the sun. He stared at the large glowing light with empathy. His spark itself felt like a sun. "Wouldnt that be nice?" he sadly smiled, "To be able to light up somebody's world."

Smokescreen closed his optics as he was overcome by a wave of sadness and hopelessness. His dreams of being with Optimus and his team have turned solidly blank and meaningless. What was he going to do now? He's alone and running out of energy. Who could protect him now?

Smokescreen gasped and sat up real fast when those relaxing, comforting and reassuring emotions started filling his spark again. Pushing himself up and away from the ground, Smokescreen rubbed his chamber while gazing at the dirt. He wondered what on earth these feelings could be or mean.

Just as he was about to check things out in his networking, a sudden airy sound filled Smokescreen's audios. He turned around and seen two jets, a dark blue one and a purple one. "The bond," he gasped to himself before turning around and trying to transform. But he couldn't.

Smokescreen cursed and tried again but he was too low on fuel to do anything at this point. He was defenseless. The only choices he had was either to run or face the two comers head on. Smokescreen wasn't sure which he wanted to do. He didn't have a comm. link anymore so the idea of calling the autobots was soiled. His weapons were down and he was slow. Getting away would not be so easy.

Looking back at the jets, Smokescreen estimated that they were about less than a minute away; not nearly enough time to run or hide. He bent down a little as the jets circled around him in fast circles. Smokescreen was afraid... very afraid but he wasn't going to run from his fate. Optimus wanted to ditch him so this is what happens.

Shockwave and Dreadwing both transformed at the same time, landing on the ground with a crash from their peds. They had to admit they were both surprised that their little autobot was not running away as they approached.

"What do you want, cons'?" Smokescreen asked with his arms drawn back as if ready to punch. He secretly feared them violating him again; the image almost causing him to shudder.

Shockwave gestured his servo towards his partner beside him, "We have been witnessing unaccustomed sensations inside our sparks and have come to investigate."

That made Smokescreen confused as his body relaxed only so slightly. His fist loosened and he stood straighter. "What do you mean?" he asked, keeping his guard up.

"Ever since our last encounter, we had believed you had been left permanently offline because of the aftershock you bots' usually have," Dreadwing answered with the same suspicious tone.

Smokescreen looked down at the ground, "So you come to finish what you started. . .typical." He looked back up when he heard the purple one start to speak again.

"On the contrary we had been highly shocked do to your superior outburst. Not many have survived our sessions when it comes to typical spark bonding." Shockwave looked over at the other con, "We were even beneficial to have survived it with each other's high grade and substantial frames."

Smokescreen could have said that he would have rather them offlined but he figured they were already bonded before he ever happened. "So what?" he asked stupidly, "I survived... big deal. So what do you want?"

Dreadwing started moving in slowly, "Well since your compelling luck against our bonding ritual, you are now a permanent mark in this bond."

Smokescreen's optics widened and he took a step back, not knowing that they could feel his fear. "W-what?" he stuttered, "but I-I thought that bonds didn't work unless both partners consent on it." He then pointed at the two cons' and yelled, "You forced me to interface with you!"

Dreadwing gazed at Shockwave who stared back him, "Affirmative. We admit it was a cause of victory and abuse. We had assumed you would have offlined but our assumption was proven wrong. Now we have a third mark in our bond."

"Through emotional cause, Soundwave and Knockout had addressed us that these negative emotions came from you explicitly." Dreadwing added more explanation in, "Soundwave had also noted us that the autobots had terminated you from their team."

Smokescreen let out a fake laugh with his arms crossed and his optics looking vertically up at the sky. "So you have come to finish me," he stated bluntly.

"Not entirely," Shockwave said before walking in as well.

Dreadwing was even more shocked that the bot was letting them get so close. "We want you in our bond so that we can strive together."

Smokescreen looked up at the blue mech and glared, "Why would you want that?" He then added in sourly, "You just rapped me, impinged my spark and got me thrown off team Prime and now you want me to join your stupid bond?!" He didn't notice he had taken so many steps closer and was now only a ped away from Dreadwing. "No," he answered his own ridiculous question, "Frag no! I am not going to be used as some mindless frag toy."

Dreadwing kept his patience as he calmly replied, "We never spoke of wanting to use you."

Smokescreen glared, his arms crossing again as he mindlessly wondered what it was now. He didn't know what else to say. He was confused, angry and scared.

"As a better approach, we admit desiring to use you but not because of greed or domination," Shockwave explained. "The bond causes true want and desire to oppress our processing system making it relinquish all substandard emotions. Whether we consent on it or do not, we will always be forced to feel one another's emotions."

"That would give you two choices," Dreadwing announced, "Either you cooperate and come with us or you will be executed."

Smokescreen tried to process everything too quickly like he was a person trying to juggle. Dreadwing and Shockwave understood that they were confusing the autobot and making him unstable. Their own shared emotions were making Smokescreen feel terribly mixed up for his own good. "But... that isn't fair," Smokescreen almost pouted, "You just left me with the choice of being permanently offlined or permanently abused!"

"Correction: not abuse. Care," Shockwave pointed out.

Smokescreen let his arms fall down to his sides, an empty, cold, fearful feeling drying out his spark. The feeling only over powered him for a moment until he was swamped by the cons' comforting emotions. Smokescreen almost drifted off into recharge because it felt so nice. He shook his helm though and scoffed, "There's no way I'm doing either."

Smokescreen turned around and started walking away carelessly, "Go find someone else to make as your toy... maybe even Megatron." He laughed. Just as he made it five meters away, he was shot at in the back.

Smokescreen yelled, reaching to clutch his back while falling to his knees. Whatever hit him was draining his processor causing everything to go black. His upper body gave out and he fell onto the grass with a heavy thud. The sun didn't get to say goodbye to Smokescreen that day because two large shadows covered his body.

* * *

 

Smokescreen stirred slightly, his processor aching and his spark screaming in fear. The first thing he remembered was being ambushed by the very cons' he hoped he'd never see again. Onlining his optics, Smokescreen was first greeted by the darkest grey matched to black walls he had ever seen along with dark glowing red lights. He lifted his helm and tried studying his surroundings. This certainly was not the autobot base.

Smokescreen tried moving his arms and legs only to realize that they were all bound. His legs were strapped to a berth and his arms were chained above his body. Tugging fiercely on the chain above him, all Smokescreen could manage were a few grunts and a slight pull up. When the door opened he stopped his struggling to see who entered.

Shockwave and Dreadwing both filed in through the doorway, the dark blue one slapping the lock in place. Smokescreen felt himself starting to shake in fear as he processed his vulnerable position. He tried twisting and tugging on the chains but all they would do was groan from his desperate trials. "Please," Smokescreen begged, head lifting in distrust, "Please don't do it. Not again... please."

"Do not worry," Shockwave said while coming to a stop beside the berth. Once he was beside the frightened bot's helm he automatically sent thrilling waves of comfort down to him.

Smokescreen gasped and wiggled as he felt the overcoming sensations fill his spark. It was almost too much to handle. He was giving into the comforting feelings too fast although he still tried to fight against them.

Dreadwing and Shockwave gazed at one another, one with a smirk as the other remained expressionless. Since they were older and obviously decepticons' they knew more about bonding then their captive autobot did. They had also been in a bond together for eons so they knew very well how to send emotions to one another.

Smokescreen felt like he was going to pass out from the struggle inside himself. It was a literal mental war. He almost cried as he felt the calming sensations take over his body and fill him up with dribbles of trust. His squirming slowly stopped and he relaxed on his back, optics closed and a sigh coming out of his gapped mouth.

Shockwave reached up and yanked the chain down that had Smokescreen's wrist pinned while Dreadwing unlatched the leg restraints. Smokescreen tried to fight against the emotions through the back of his processor but it was just too much. He was stuck like a duck in the middle of a pond with a punch of predators on the shore.

The emotional imbalance inside himself told him that the cons' were not going to harm him. They made him feel trust he knew he wouldn't be feeling if it weren't for this stupid bond. Feeling it all, Smokescreen slowly sat up on his bottom and looked around.

"You have successfully completed the bond with Dreadwing but have not yet succeeded with me," Shockwave explained in his dark, bone chilling voice. "I do remember our time spent together being... delayed."

Smokescreen gasped and started shaking again as he moved back every time one of the cons' moved in. "S-stay away," he whimpered when another wave of comfort flooded him.

Dreadwing wrapped his servos around the small autobot and lifted him, ignoring his struggles and pushes as he placed him on his lap after setting down on the edge of the berth. Smokescreen blushed and tried pushing himself away but he was pinned. He tried ignoring these comforting feelings that were flooding his insides with tiny little dribbles of trust. His fear and denial where overcome by a huge wave of tranquility, "Ahh!"

Reassured, seeing the bot pinned evenly in his partners arms, Shockwave opened his own spark chamber and stepped in closer to the young autobot.

There were calming emotions causing Smokescreen to wanna feel trust towards the two cons' but his own literal sense told him that they were definitely up to no good. He believed, truly, that they were just going to use him as a frag toy for the rest of his life. He didn't want that.

Shockwave had commanded that Smokescreen open his chamber but he was not surprised that he was refusing. Instead of threatening the frightened autobot, Shockwave lifted his servo out and started to massage the chassis in front of him. He used firm but gentle servos while rubbing over the quivering armor and tweaking small seams.

Smokescreen shuddered while sadly giving into the calming ministrations. As much as he tried fighting his hardest he couldn't help but be overcome by thick waves of serenity and trust. He was being forced to believe that they weren't going to hurt him and true enough they weren't showing any signs of torture... yet. Still a big part of him tried siding against it because it seemed obvious what they were trying to do.

Smokescreen knew the horrid trick; it was a very well known decepticon trick. They start off treating you gently and bottle you up with trust, acting like they care. Then they turn their backs on you and slap you in the face by dismissing your trust and violating you in whatever way pleases them. In the end you are disappointed and cruelly hurt.

Smokescreen whimpered and struggled again, his armor starting to unravel into the nice touches. He could feel Shockwave's warmth and the way Dreadwing's body vibrated against him. Shaking violently in a last attempt to defend himself, Smokescreen fell into a deep relaxation. His chest plates opened and he sighed from being overpowered.

Shockwave nodded at Dreadwing before stepping closer and grabbing the autobot by the shoulders and pulling him closer. He leaned his chest out and pushed their sparks together. Smokescreen cried out and started struggling again in protest. Bad haunting memories came flooding back to him and he whimpered in defeat.

Shockwave only kept their sparks merged together for the needed amount of time in order to finish the bond. He was not going to keep them together longer than the recommended time because of all the fearful and pained emotions he felt.

They all felt it; all the emotions spilling from Smokescreen as he pushed and weakly shoved to get away. His spark felt dry with all the charge running through it and he almost started crying. Shockwave pulled away when the bond was finished and closed his spark chamber. The scientist waited a moment for his processor to clear before he started sending waves of comfort towards the cowering autobot.

Even though he was in a con's lap, Smokescreen tried pulling his legs up close with his arms wrapped around his helm. He wasn't crying but he was blowing off unknowing waves of hurt and hopelessness tangled in fear drenched with despair.

Shockwave watched as Dreadwing scooped the autobot into his strong arms and laid him down on the berth. They planned on waiting until Smokescreen settles down before taking him again but spitting demands busted through their audios. It was lord Megatron requesting backup for Knockout and Breakdown. Well that ruins everything...

"You will remain here for the duration of our absence," Shockwave stated like a parent while reaching back for the chain. "If you should escape, there will be minor consequences'."

"So don't try anything ill planned," Dreadwing commanded with his arms crossed. He had already restrained the autobot's legs, now he was just waiting on his partner.

Smokescreen could feel their seriousness and demanding emotions. "Ha, we'll see about that," he smirked as the cons' started to exit the room. He could feel their emotions of stress, worry and anger mixed in with his own similar feelings. After the door closed with a hissing lock, Smokescreen immediately began to tug on his restraints.

Those stupid cons' weren't here to persuade him so he had the capability to maintain his own emotions. Besides, the cons' were in a battle so they would all be sharing determined thoughts. Smokescreen huffed and mumbled, "Stupid cons'."

He began pulling on the chain in which was attached to the ceiling on two separate hooks. He did have a stasis cuff on but it was powered off to be used as a regular cuff. The chain was attached to the cuff to hold his arms up above him. If he were a human then he would be facing the tragic position of constantly having to smell his underarms.

Smokescreen tried arching his back up to test the chain. When his audio receptors captured the sound of the chain rattling from loosening he grinned. He tried arching again. Using his back to push up his arms so that he could try and slip the chain off the hook. Grunting he tried putting in a little more effort and determination.

Then with a few more back arches, Smokescreen collapsed and gave up when his cooling fans kicked on. He had worked himself too hard. The chain wasn't slipping. He vented heavily with the feelings of worry, anger and disappointment whooshing through his body. It was like doing sit-ups except they were back-arches.

Without anything to keep him occupied, Smokescreen started thinking strongly for a moment about what his capturers planned on doing to him. Of course he had it settled as just violation and abuse but why did they want him in their bond? Why were they treating him so kindly? Decepticon trick.

Smokescreen couldn't believe this. Not one bit. His team throwing him out because cons' had violated him? Well why didn't they just throw Bumblebee out then? He was violated also... and not just by any random scientist or kissass. Megatron!

Smokescreen scowled and turned his head away to stare blindly at the wall like he was offended. He was very disappointed and hurt. Let down by his team and then picked up by deceptions. What else is new? "There's something for ya," Smokescreen thought sarcastically to himself, "Your team dumps you and then the two cons' who rapped you kidnap you and then cuddle you with love. How sweet is that?"

Smokescreen had jerked from anger by thinking about it and ended up slapping himself in the face with his right servo. He owed and blinked a few times to see what he had done. Sure enough... the chain came undone on his right servo. "Huh... guess there is something for ya after all," he didn't set around too long though.

Reaching into his subspace below the armor on his spark chamber, Smokescreen pulled out the phase shifter. Grunting, he reached over to his other restrained arm and latched the devise on. Fitting like a bracelet, he turned the knob like a bottle cap and finally felt himself whisp through the bindings. Laughing from his success, Smokescreen jumped up from the berth and moved around in joy. "Ha! Why don't you suck that, cons'!"

Smokescreen would do a victory dance if he had the time but he was in a huge hurry to bust out of this place and forget everything. Running through the door, Smokescreen almost forgot to be cautious. Luckily there weren't any decepticons coming in from either end of the hall. Following his instincts to take a left, Smokescreen followed it while listening with sharp audios.

Since there obviously was a battle somewhere, Smokescreen believed that the ship was mostly empty or at least not as crowded. All the vehicons were probably either at battle grounds or the control center; both places Smokey wasn't going.

Tiptoeing, Smokescreen heard pedsteps from behind him and instantly tensed. Turning around, he didn't see anyone so he quickly hurried on with desperate peds to the next corner. Still looking over his shoulder, Smokescreen took a pretty harsh crash into something... or someone. "Megatron," he gasped after taking multiple steps back.

"Just phasing through the corridors I see," Megatron assumed while acting calm and interested. "But I am afraid this time will not be as successful as the last," he started stomping towards the smaller bot.

"Yeah about that..." Smokescreen rubbed the back of his neck while lifting the other servo out nervously. "I don't think it was me who was that successful. I mean you were the one who ended up with all the keys and I-

"Silence you fool!" Megatron bellowed angrily. "You escaped my ship once before," his voice was a low and displeased rumble that sent auto chills down Smokescreen's back, "I will not give you the same opportunity again."

Faster than Smokescreen could process, Megatron grabbed him by the arm and tore the phase shifter off. Then he reached down, swiftly grabbed his ankle and slammed him backside first into the closest wall. Megatron roared, threw the meaningless devise out of reach and grabbed the escaped prisoner by the shoulders. Smokescreen yelled as he was heaved up into the air before being shoved face first into the floor, pain anchoring his body.

Megatron then gripped the autobot's door wings and lifted him up in the air by them earning shouts of agony. Growling, he snarled, "this is what you get for trying to escape!" he lifted his own knee in the air and slammed the autobot down on top of it, ripping his wing joints and leaving them badly dislocated.

Smokescreen howled with pain traveling all the way down his back and he continued to scream as it grew. Megatron reached down, grabbed him by the neck and forced him to look at him. Smokescreen stopped screaming but he was still whining and making fearful sounds of pain. Megatron stared at the little white autobot and thought that he should just end him now... but Dreadwing and Shockwave.

Megatron released the mech's neck and watched as he fell to the ground clutching his injuries. "I almost forgot that it is not my place to disown you," he said in his dark voice, "So be in for more then what you got today, autobot." Megatron started walking off while mumbling loudly, "neither Dreadwing nor Shockwave have easy get away strategies."

Smokescreen was on his wobbly knees, trying to clutch his door wings and grunting from the pain. As he saw the warlord disappear around a corner, a bunch of identical, purple vehicons started filling the hallway. Smokescreen tried to stand but electric shocks of pain in his arm told him that his shoulder had also been wounded. He had no choice but to let the cons' file around him, put their dirty servos on him and take him to where ever.

Smokescreen almost tripped when the multiple vehicons pushed on his injured back as an urge for him to go faster. They didn't walk long until there was a big door that split open when they walked close enough. "Well..." someone said in an amused tone, "Aren't you trippy?"

Smokescreen turned around to face his rival once the door was slammed shut behind him. He then glared at the medic who he wondered, "I thought you were the one who needed backup?" Smokescreen rolled his optics, "not that it really would surprise me."

"Quiet you," Knockout spat while walking closer, "It just so happens that a medic was needed for sentimental reasons."

Smokescreen squirmed as the red mech walked behind him, yanking his arms back and snapping on a pair of stasis cuffs. "I don't need your help," he declared in a brave voice.

Knockout patted the injured door wings like a person would a dog and smirked. He walked back around the white autobot with a cocky and most usual sarcastic impression. "Maybe not now but you will require my assistance sometime in the future," he reached for his surgical tools.

"What do you mean?" Smokescreen couldn't help but ask in fear as he shook from what Knockout had said. He was already in need of fixing as much as he denied it. What else would he have to face if this was such small work for the medic?

Knockout fiddled with some of his supplies while laughing evilly, "I mean your pet owners, you ignorant, scrap made domestic." He grabbed the little devise a mere vehicon had handed him and trotted back over to the patient. "You should see all the vehicons' I've had to endure fixing because of Shockwave and Dreadwing's rough play," he shivered and smiled down at the white bot, "a very brutal sight I must admit myself."

That didn't sound too encouraging to Smokescreen. It was already bad enough being tortured by Megatron. What else does he have to face? He was hurt in the worst possible way ever; his door wings were a very sensitive and important part of his body. He wasn't sure how much more he could take.

Waves of guilt, shame and disappointment started to weigh Smokescreen down. He felt his optics grow wide with fear and when he opened his mouth to gap, Knockout shoved the end of the phase shifter into his mouth as far as it would go. He shook his head in protest but it was stuck too far in, as wide as his mouth would open.

"There," Knockout cackled, "that should keep you quiet for the most part."

* * *

 

Shockwave and Dreadwing had finally managed to catch a break after three days. Shockwave had been busy processing information about the predacon clones while Dreadwing had been busy serving the lord himself. It had been a rather crazy and difficult three days. They had trusted Knockout enough to at least keep their prisoner bound and disciplined. Now on the fourth day they were finally setting off to enjoy him.

Shockwave and Dreadwing had recently learned of Smokescreen's escape and his punishment from lord Megatron. They had been angered-not only by their prisoner's manage to escape-but by their lecture from Megatron about tying Smokescreen up better. Both the bonded cons' were not left so happy.

Knockout had told them that a surprise would be waiting in their room today. Dreadwing and Shockwave had been rather curious and questionable as they continued on to their quarters. When they arrived, Shockwave typed the code in and they both stood in caution of what they might see. It would seem that Knockout was right after all; they did end up surprised.

Smokescreen was setting on his knees on their berth, his servos cuffed in stasis locks behind his back, the phase shifter still stuck in his mouth and chains were wrapped tightly around his entire body. The perfect present!

Smokescreen's helm was lowered and his optics were closed, shame and regret seeming to steam off his armor. Smokescreen could feel their presence, he could feel their desire and he could feel them. _Be in for more than what you got today,_ Smokescreen remember, _neither Dreadwing nor Shockwave have easy get away strategies._

Shockwave and Dreadwing walked in slowly, the door hissing shut behind them. They could feel and hear Smokescreen's silent fear as it seemed to practically leak off him. And still they wondered why and how he remained to be so silent... so still. He seemed to be completely expressionless but they could feel his emotions strongly. Smokescreen was in pain from Megatron's beatings and was and had been stressing about his fate.

Shockwave walked to the front of the berth while Dreadwing stopped at the back. They both faced the depressed looking autobot and nodded at each other. Shockwave tilted Smokescreen's helm up by his chin while his free servo came up to remove the phase shifter. Surprised that the bot didn't flinch.

Once the wretched device was out of his mouth, Smokescreen opened and closed his mouth, his jaw hurting from being open and stretched for so long. A little trail of energon started running down his chin and lip. He had one long cut on his glossa and another on his upper lip. Smokescreen barley cracked open his optics and looked up at the purple con. But he ended up looking back down.

Dreadwing waited for the quiet signal before powering down the stasis cuffs and pulling them off the autobot's wrists. Then they both worked together to remove the chain wrapped around the autobot like ribbons to a Christmas present.

Once everything was off of him and his arms were free, Smokescreen slowly brought his servos up and rested them in his lap. His door wings dropped exceedingly low, almost scraping over the top of the berth. After three days of being fed constant fear, he had grown hopeless. All he knew was that bad and then worse was about to happen to him.

Shockwave had stopped beside his partner to talk to him privately about what he wished to do with the puny autobot. They still desired giving punishment. But the way the bot was acting had them even more curious and confused.

Smokescreen could feel their plotting, their desire, and their aggression. Their comfort. Smokescreen's helm lifted slightly when he felt familiar waves of comfort make his spark tingle. As bad as he was hurting, he was almost willing to accept the calming emotions but be knew what this was. The old con trick. _You should see all the vehicons I've had to endure fixing because of Dreadwing and Shockwave's rough play_. A closing of the optics and a fall of the spark. _A very brutal sight._

Shockwave watched as Dreadwing walked up behind the table where the droopy door wings hardly shook. Dreadwing carefully lifted a servo out and lightly touched the edge of one of the shaky appendages. He stroked the wing with his name on it, noting the dark blue decepticon insignia at the end.

When Smokescreen felt the contact he couldn't help but feel his muscles tense. His shoulders lifted slightly and he raised his head in fear, sore mouth clenching cold denta inside. He could feel his optics tighten when the stroking on his door wing grew firmer.

Dreadwing rubbed down the clattering wings and the sensitive and very sore joints that Megatron tore. Smokescreen moved forward slightly as he was touched on the most aching part of his body. "Ahh," he made a noise of pain.

"Did you not think that your actions few days ago would go unpunished?" Dreadwing asked with a faint glare as he pressed his servo firmly against the fixed wounds.

Smokescreen whimpered, fearing pain so he answered quickly, "I took my chances, ahh... and learned my lesson." He knew that sounded weak and pathetic but he didn't know what else to do. When truthfully he had learned his lesson, he knew he was still going to get punished.

Dreadwing paused and started rubbing more gently, "Good." He ran his servo down the space between the sweet little door wings and massaged softly.

Smokescreen was falling under the spell again as those comforting waves came plummeting into him. All he wanted was comfort. And these gentle touches on his back were helping. If only Dreadwing could just... rub a little lower. No! Smokescreen shook his helm while trying to snap out of it. "Decepticon trick," he reminded himself in a light whisper.

"What's that my mate," Dreadwing almost purred while absent mindedly running his servo lower. When he heard Smokescreen's clenching "ahh" sound he realized what he had done. Massaging more firmly on the lower joints beneath the wings, Dreadwing made Smokescreen jolt.

Shockwave studied the act from behind, watching and feeling how the autobot behaved to each stroke, pat and caress. There was a lot to take in and the fact that the bot already knew of the decepticon trick made things even trickier. He observed the bot's clenching servos as he tried to fight off the beginnings of arousal. Dreadwing fingered a cluster of wires he remembered tearing so viciously before and it earned a begging whine.

"No," Smokescreen cried while trying not to let the arousal in. He would much rather they just mercilessly take him than feeling pleasure at all… All in all, he just wanted to be left alone. Not hurt and not forcefully pleased. He wiggled as he felt that servo dig into the same violated seam and brush gently over exposed wires. The memories making him more afraid then he'd been since he got here.

Shockwave watched as Dreadwing removed his servo from the patched wires and move downward to the bot's aft. Smokescreen had been expecting pain at any moment but there wasn't any coming. All he could feel was enjoyment in the work and waves of comforting emotions being sent to him. There were those dribbles of trust again. Smokescreen tried shaking his helm to be rid these fake and untrue emotions but it seemed impossible.

Dreadwing noted that the bot would need to be placed in a more submissive position. He scooted up on the berth, setting on his own knees behind the smaller bot. His broad chest was pressed firmly against the autobot's back as he wrapped his arms around him. Dreadwing used one servo to tilt the bot's helm backwards to the side.

And before Smokescreen knew it, he was kissing a decepticon. His optics went wide and crazed as he weakly struggled but ended up being held tighter. His mouth and jaw were still aching from the phase shifter making him whimper from left over pain.

Dreadwing stared lustfully back into the autobot's optics as he devoured his lips. He demanded entrance, pushed his glossa in to find the abused one. But as Smokescreen tried to pull back, he fingered his wing joints again making him fall into the trick. Then instantly their glossas met and Dreadwing licked over the wounded area.

Smokescreen whimpered one last time as he fell into the comfort and serenity. He allowed himself to be calmed and sadly aroused. In reality it was said that every mech forced into a decepticon trick would always fall into it at some point. Smokescreen has just fallen. He felt his own cut glossa be sucked on by the older mech who was easing his pain and overpowering him in emotional trust.

And it's not that Smokescreen actually did trust the decepticons'; he just felt it. Dreadwing licked over the bot's cut lip, sucking up the energon and satisfying the tension. He pulled away though, one servo still grasping the bot's helm as he felt his cooling fans whirl to life. Smokescreen stared into the mech's seemingly gentle optics and watched as he smirked back. Dreadwing started to push the bot down by the back until he had to position himself on all fours.

Shockwave then complied as his partner slipped off the berth and sent him a wink. "I believe he is ready," he heard him whisper. It was their plan to calm the autobot down enough in order of getting him into a comfortable submissive position. Shockwave nodded and started walking over to the edge of the berth, sending his own waves of comfort the entire time.

Smokescreen felt that wonderful relaxing feeling come back to him and he sighed while closing his optics. He felt someone touch the intimate area below his back and he jerked slightly and peered around his shoulder. It was Shockwave; possibly the scariest con alive with that huge gun always connected to him. Smokescreen started to feel true fear bubble up inside him again.

Shockwave ran his servo over the bot's nice rounded aft and demanded softly that he open his panel. Smokescreen was terrified though, thinking that the violence was about to begin. "I-I can't, you-you'll just, ahh!" another wave of comfort. As soft digits fingered the seams of his panel, he couldn't help but allow his armor to retract shamefully.

Smokescreen did not want to be violated again. He didn't want the hurt or the pain. He liked the comfort and arousal through the force of the bond but that wasn't right. Shaking as digits circled around his port, Smokescreen jolted when he felt one enter him.

Dreadwing and Shockwave both worked to send waves of gentle emotions off to their little autobot. They could feel his negative emotions and worked to ease and calm him. Dreadwing was standing off to the side, watching, getting aroused. Shockwave continued to thrust his digit in, being careful while adding another. He felt the autobot jostle and shake as he continued to finger his port with utter delicacy.

Smokescreen shuddered out loud and lowered his helm down, his optics closing in defeat. It wasn't his port or the digits that were hurting him. It was the memories. The things that told him, made him believe that they were just going to mindlessly blow him up. Smokescreen knew he had fallen into the trick but he didn't know how to get out.

Shockwave rubbed the spot under the autobot's door wings where he remembered it being most enjoyable. "Do you promise not to escape again?" he suddenly asked in his deep voice. He stopped all at once to see what the autobot would say.

Smokescreen leaned his helm up some and let out a single fake laugh, "ha, only if you promise not to violate me anymore." He felt the third digit enter him and he jerked forward, "Ahh! OK ok, I promise. Scrap."

Shockwave looked up at his partner and nodded, "Record. You shall not be violated anymore." He pulled all his digits out after he felt the bot was ready enough.

Smokescreen gasped, "What?" He tried asking but flexed and flinched when he felt the tip of Shockwave's spike start to prod him. He wanted to ask how he wouldn't be violated anymore but he was stuck. Fear of pain indulged his insides and ate him up.

Shockwave sent a big wave of erotic sensations through the bond on top of the autobot. When he heard Smokescreen arch from thrill, he started pushing in slowly. Smokescreen made noises of pain and want after the over effecting wave of arousal pounced him. He could feel the con penetrate him gently and slowly making him wonder just how far he intended to go with the decepticon trick.

Shockwave finally found himself buried inside the bot, his port nicely fitted around his spike. It was a rather soft stretching routine but at least it made the autobot think differently. Shockwave moved his hips back, pulling his spike out before moving back in a little faster than the first time.

Smokescreen continued to jostle as the mech behind him started thrusting in more firmly. His rhythm and pace close to demanding but not painful. In fact-unlike last time-Smokescreen was feeling pleasure. It started in his port and bloomed all throughout his small body.

Shockwave and Dreadwing were processing together how much the autobot was opening up when just a couple days ago he was positively refusing to feel pleasure. And it's not saying that Smokescreen was desperate; the young bot just wanted comfort. And it had proven that their bond strategies were working.

Shockwave started thrusting in and out at his own desirable pace, his spike feeling more than pleased. The way those tight heated muscles clamped around his spike caused invading waves of pleasure to fill his body. Shockwave let out a strangled, muffled moan while reaching out in front of him.

Smokescreen was feeling the pleasure also and was making faint moans because of it. When he felt sharp digits suddenly wrap around his own spike he jerked. He didn't think his spike would be used for anything. He just thought he was going to be used as a frag toy. But those digits curled around his spike and he found himself being fisted. Smokescreen let out a strangled gasping sound as the two pleasures started mixing together making his lower tank heat up.

Shockwave felt his body vibrate with pleasurable emotions as he continued to take the autobot. He quickened his pace ever so slightly while building speed on pumping Smokescreen's spike. Dreadwing was only watching, trying to control the autobot with comforting emotion.

Deep down, Smokescreen was really freaking out. His spark was racing and his processor was trying to jump but something was holding it back. He was enjoying this too much to wanna make it stop but it wasn't his own desire was it? No, this was forced desire. He's under the trick. He can't control himself right now.

Smokescreen whimpered before moaning, ducking his helm down between his shoulders. He made a deep throaty groan as the pleasure enlightened. Shockwave was reaching his peek, the pleasure becoming too much to bear. It was like being a fire cracker; they were both bound to explode. With another thrust and a couple more strokes, Shockwave groaned deeply as the sensations of his overload mixed with the bots.

"Ahh!" Smokescreen moaned as the force of great pleasure pounded through his body. Draining his energy. As he felt the con slip out of him, his body convulsed and fell sideways onto the berth. Venting in and out quickly, he was only able to reply with static.

Shockwave closed his interface panel and slid off the berth. The bond had been completed three days ago so it had time to strengthen on its own but they still needed it to grow. The more the three are around each other than the more they could trust one another thus making the bond strong. "Will you being staying with him tonight?" Shockwave asked.

Dreadwing looked down at the exposed autobot who was offlining from exhaustion. "I will," he answered. He may not have had his feel of pleasure tonight but he did get to feel the emotions. Shockwave was good at keeping his emotions hidden and contained while this war is raging. Dreadwing could manage to show off a few emotions.

Shockwave nodded to his partner and started walking out the door, being mindful of his loud steps for once. When Dreadwing was assured the door had locked he walked over to the side of the berth and laid down beside Smokescreen. The autobot was passed out on his right side, his wings lifted in comfort and his venting calmed. Dreadwing rested behind him, wrapping an arm over his waist and pulling him close.

Dreadwing was surprised by the small moan he caused the bot to make either because of his waves of comfort or the position. The bond was strengthening, and Smokescreen was allowing it as he recharged.


	4. Chapter 4

As vehicons escorted Smokescreen to his designated location, the small little autobot couldn't help but wonder what his bonded intended to do today. So far any other time he's brought forward to their room they just wanted to do repairs and talk to each other about boring stuff. Yet in the month he's been here, they had interfaced with him a few times, each time more enjoyable than the last for some reason.

Shockwave and Dreadwing weren't able to catch that many breaks since they were always so busy serving Lord Megatron and Smokescreen didn't know what to think of that. He hated being under Knockout's watch, the red medic was annoying and snarky, never once not finding something insulting to start up with him. Smokescreen hated being locked up anyway, it was painful and frustrating for he who is so energized and young. He needed to move around and fight; it was practically what he was forged to do.

Yet being stuck here, up high in this ship was a more boring prison than Smokescreen had ever been in. He wondered how he wasn't going through a forced shutdown because of it. And sometimes he would even question why it felt so... welcoming.

The decepticons weren't really that bad come to find out. Just as long as you don't frag them they won't frag you in whatever way you started it with. Of course they want usefulness and worth out of you; that's the practical biology of their race. They don't highly reward for your usefulness, but they do respect, and that is what made Smokescreen feel so welcomed.

Dreadwing and Shockwave seemed to not only show him respect but allow him to mindlessly feel it through the bond. He wondered what on Cybertron they would respect him for other than being a decepticon pet and pleasure bot. And even then they didn't treat him as such. They had been around plenty of times to prove their points of care.

Once the vehicons made it to the door, they knocked. Smokescreen's face fell into a long, hard, cold grimace that glared at the ground. He wasn't ready to be used again and he hated that he couldn't get out of this stuck, mixed processor storm. Never could he choose between liking it and not liking it, trusting or distrusting, wanting or not wanting and cooperating or not. Sometimes he just really wanted to jump out the window again and see what would happen; if he lived then he would be brought back for repairs and if he died... Primus welcome him strongly.

When the door opened, Smokescreen closed his optics and relaxed when all the vehicons let go of him. He remained to stay there with his helm down, ready for this sudden burst of comfort or lust to fill his insides and stir him up like crazy. The sound of pedsteps decaying down the hallway told the autobot that the vehicons had all left.

Dreadwing stared at the autobot, not surprised to see him this way because it was always how he usually showed up. Instead of showing any concern, he merely reached forward and grabbed his wrist before yanking him into the room.

Smokescreen bit his lip and allowed himself to be dragged into the room, feeling a smidge of discomfort when he heard the door shut and lock. Ok, so he was starting without cooperation... not good. He opened his optics and looked around the room, searching for the purple con and spotting him standing in front of the berth. So their choice was interfacing tonight... Typical.

"You would be wise not to use improper tones with us, Smokescreen," Shockwaves deep and bone chilling voice was much louder and more thorough than normal. It was enough to make the autobot's reaction sink, and the decepticons could feel fear.

Dreadwing guided the autobot to the berth and made him set down on the edge. His expression was almost completely the same as Shockwaves; blank and unreadable yet sounding angry and stressed. "We've been experiencing bad days," he confirmed in a rough voice.

Smokescreen blinked once, optics growing wide and fretful as he stared at the two cons in front of him. "Bad days?" he asked in a soft voice, feeling an uneasy knot inside his chassis flare.

That didn't sound good. Bad days, bad times, and bad nights were all meaning one thing and that was a bad recovery or at least bad for him. Smokescreen remembered Megatron's victory day... that had been a bad day for both the decepticons and the autobots. The only way decepticons recover from bad days were to use a minimum of force, hatred, anger and domination over the weaker.

"Affirmative," Shockwave stood beside his partner while they both faced the autobot who was fidgeting nervously in front of them. Dreadwing looked over at the purple con, his face just so unreadable that it hurt. "And do you know what helps to ease a bad day?" he asked suddenly, not sparing a glance back to the confused autobot.

Shockwave nodded slowly, his expression too nerve racking motionless to tell what he was thinking either. "There is only one thing for it," he replied in that haunting voice, face slowly bringing a thorough focus on the young mech.

Smokescreen felt both the cons evil stares on him and suddenly went stiff and rigid, emotions spilling out with fear and terror. Oh Primus, they're in a bad mood, a really bad mood. And now they were going to take it out on him! Feeling like he was the most unlucky mech in the universe, Smokescreen gulped and blinked, feeling that uneasy knot in his tank intensify.

Dreadwing glared before taking a step forward, his voice turning demanding and tough. "Retract your panel," he commanded but in the time he wasn't getting an answer, he sliced through the emotional attack on Smokescreen and took another threatening step forward, fist balled in the air. "Must we pry it off ourselves...?"

Snap.

Smokescreen never did look away from his bonded, too stuck in anxiety to move in the slightest. He was mortified and worried, all hopes washed down the drain and replaced by a small helpless cry. His fate seemed obvious. They made it obvious.

Dreadwing took those couple steps back to his partner and faced him with a stressful x-vent coming out his mouth. He grumbled and spoke to Shockwave through the bond, talking about the autobot and their plans for soothing this bad day. "I suggest that you observe this well, autobot," he dryly stated in warning tone, the snapping of his own panel opening causing the bot to lean.

Shockwave followed suit and opened his own panel before facing his partner as well. "Determine by what you observe from us what is to happen if bad experiences should happen," he noted in that fraggin voice of spiraling chills.

Smokescreen watched with wide optics, his servos tightly gripping his knees and his chest aching with fear. He just knew that in any moment they were going to turn around and slam him into the berth. This must be what he's so useful for; soothing and easing their bad moods...

But Smokescreen automatically jumped when Dreadwing punched Shockwave in the chest and sent him stumbling backward. Then he gasped and jumped again when Dreadwing crashed the purple con right into the wall and mercilessly shoved his spike right inside his port. Smokescreen was so petrified and startled that he didn't know what to do other than set there and stare with wide optics. 

Dreadwing growled into his partner's neck while thrusting his hips back and forth, roughly penetrating that unprepared, tight port. Shockwave wasn't making any sounds other than static and faint groans. He felt the way his port was stretched and stressed, making his anger flare. The thick and rigid spike moved so harshly and quickly that it could surprise one how there wasn't spilled energon from ragged made cuts.

Smokescreen nearly yelled and covered his mouth when Shockwave shoved Dreadwing to the ground and began pounding into his port. Being the powerhouse, taking a turn on the tides and being the one to dominate was the game in which they were obviously playing.

Shockwave moved on his knees, plundering deep into the dark blue and leaking port in front of him, denting and leaving heavy marks behind. His rough, metal plates left scrapes and made the meanest, loudest clanking sounds. Shockwave growled back, pinning Dreadwing to the floor and bringing back up the pace, feeling the tight and heated clamping around his spike bring on a large spout of pleasure inside his tank.

Dreadwing glared back, grunting from the sexual explosion in his tank and getting aggressive. He struggled, trying to get his servos free before his purple partner overloaded inside him. His aft burned and screamed, yearning and begging, port constricting and leaking... He was getting close.

Smokescreen risked a peek up, knees unconsciously drawing protectively to his body on instinct and processor panicking crazily. He didn't know what was going on but still managed to feel the worst for himself, so, so afraid of what was going to happen next. The way Shockwave just thrusts into Dreadwing so roughly was absolutely terrifying.

When Dreadwing got one of his servos free, he immediately slammed it into Shockwave's face. The purple con made a surprised and angry sound while struggling to keep his pace. The blue decepticon growled and smugly smirked before getting the upper servo. Dreadwing used his knees to set free and kick the other intruder back.

Shockwave was sent back a few meters, nearly doing a black flip and landing on his backside. "Shockwave?" Smokescreen whispered, feeling a measured amount of concern fill him as he stared at the unmoving con. He was nearly crying, body intensively shaking and processor anxiously panicking. He silently gasped when Dreadwing got up off the ground and started stomping over to the downed decepticon.

Dreadwing growled and bent down, demandingly pulling his partner's leg up and over his thigh. He yanked his body closer and returned to his business by pounding into that hot, tight, begging port. Steam from their frames rose to the ceiling as the condensation that covered them became too boiling hot to stay contained. Dreadwing made a satisfied face of joy, optics closing and helm tilting back as he finally got an overload-approaching feeling moving in on him.

Shockwave still seemed unconscious. Smokescreen wanted to get up and help him but he was too scared of the Primus dammed blue predator. He was afraid their wrath and vigorous attitude would be turned in his direction and he would soon be slammed and mounted like a horse. 

Dreadwing continued his mindless thrusting, processor feeling sensationally filled to the brim of overloaded lust. He was growing a limp grasp on his partner's legs and was enjoying every last, long and forceful thrust he could make until suddenly Shockwave sprang up from out of nowhere.

Thus everyone thinking he was unconscious, the scientist just seemed to surprise even more. Shockwave gripped Dreadwing by the throat and turned them over on the floor like wrestlers. He choked, cannon ramming into Dreadwing's burning aft with a scorching howl following after. Shockwave kneeled, continuing his spanking with his cannon. Each crash, slam, scream and growl sent vibrations through the ground and heated the room.

Smokescreen was whimpering, body folded close to himself as he tried not watching.

After a couple more smacks, Shockwave pushed Dreadwing to his backside and quickly plopped down to his knees above his head, straddling his helm between his thighs. He trapped his arms under his shins thus preventing them from doing anything. Then he abruptly lowered his pelvis and forced his spike into Dreadwing's intake.

Oh, the heat of his struggling mouth and slithering glossa felt so fraggin good! Evilly absorbed passion was melting and building inside them, bringing overload back up to its speed. 

Pumping his hips so that the con below him would swallow more, Shockwave released a loud moan from the amazing pleasure flaring inside his body. Dreadwing's mouth ached from the stretch and rough spike inside it and his intake burned from having to repeatedly swallow the long spike diving into it. But who's to say that they both weren't enjoying it all?

Shockwave was nearing a dangerously winning overload but was unaware of the weight he was lifting off his bent legs. Dreadwing's servos were, once again, set free and he quickly punched Shockwave in the tank. The purple decepticon made a sound of anger and annoyance before crashing into the ground. He landed part ways on his servo and knees before being flattened even more.

Dreadwing evenly pounced on his purple partner and shoved into his port again, this time with more force and determination. He roughly rocked his hips while holding Shockwave's servos down with both his servos. He made sure to be dominating and aggressive, wishing that he could punch his tank until it was dented and bleeding with energon. Then he would paint his triumphing name with it all over the walls. Dreadwing growled, picking up the pace and moaning from the pleasure arising back inside his forgotten spike.

Smokescreen was whimpering and crying while covering his face with both his arms. He didn't want to look up; it would scare him too much. He didn't wanna think about what they were going to do to him next. He wasn't actually crying lubricant tears, but he was making the sounds that represent them. The thought of being taken in such forceful, aggressive, demanding, cruel ways had him beyond uncomfortable.

Shockwave couldn't get himself free; he was pinned and too stuck to do anything. Dreadwing was right on the edge of his load, ready to explode his winnings into that tight, purple port. He smirked again, feeling his rapidly beating spark scream inside his chassis. Dreadwing clenched his optics shut and hissed as an intense overload crashed through his body, going bang in every sensory node he owned.

Smokescreen opened his optics when he heard the different noises of joy and ecstasy and risked a glance up. He examined Dreadwing lying on top of Shockwave's body and gasped when he felt the reaction of his huge pleasure rushing into him through the bond. They really must have had a bad day. Smokescreen lowered his servos only barely, staying on high alert and one-hundred percent still terrified to death.

Dreadwing sighed before loosening his mean hold on his partner and scooting back on his knees. He pulled his dripping spike out and stood up, feeling the cool air sooth him slightly. Briskly he licked his lips while looking down at his defeated partner before looking over at the berth.

Smokescreen's optics widened to the size of Neptune and he lowered his legs to where they were hanging off the edge of the berth again. A strangled, mortified intake entered his chest and sat there while his gapped mouth remained to stay empty. Oh... Primus, he really was next! He was exposed and presented next in line for the winner to take.

Smokescreen could feel the heavy heat of those squinted optics as they bathed him in their crimson hazy glow. The absolute panic in his spark made him shake slightly, feeling a very anxious reaction from the stare attack him. When Dreadwing began walking over, Smokescreen gazed down at Shockwave's defeated body. 

"Uhh... no thanks," Smokescreen lifted his servos innocently while showing an obviously fake smile, "Y-you win, Dreadwing. I-I surrender... You... you don't have to do that."

Dreadwing continued to glare like what the young autobot said was useless and pathetic. His optics never did loosen and his steps ever so slightly began to quicken.

Smokescreen whimpered, denta clenching in mild fear as the con continued to approach. "Seriously, don't waste your energy on me. I-I'm not worth it, I swear," When he had gotten too close, Smokescreen really started to panic, "P-please, Dreadwing, you really don't need to do that-

The autobot was cut off by the decepticon firmly grabbing his jaw and pressing their lips together. Smokescreen was muffled, optics wide open and servos clenching like they were unsure of what to do. He felt so afraid, feeling the way Dreadwing's burning, hungry spike pressed against his own.

Dreadwing licked over Smokescreen's derma plates delicately before shoving in. His servo went from his jaw to holding the back of his helm while he poured his passion and domination into the kiss. They slid their glossas against one another before pulling away with long lip sucking and wet sounding pops.

Smokescreen blushed, feeling slightly calmed but still totally petrified. He did not want what happened to Shockwave to happen to him. He blinked a couple times before letting that tired x-vent out and hesitantly looking up at the blue con. He watched his stare go from a confidence consuming glare to a hopeful smirk.

Dreadwing's delicious expression drank in the autobot's own for a few moments before he began speaking in a most sexy grumble. "Are you implying that you do not wish to play in our game, Smokescreen?" he asked, face still drenched in that interface layer of pleasure.

Gulping, the autobot clamped his mouth shut and nodded before whimpering. Dreadwing began pushing him back against the berth, his spike rubbing over his abdomen armor but not entering him. Smokescreen tried to stay calm, hoping that he wasn't just going to be mercilessly blown up. He closed his optics when his head was turned and the side of his heated face was gently pressed against the cool berth, obeying every order.

Dreadwing pressed his mouth against the autobot's audio and moaned into it. "You think you're playing a game," he stated in a seductive whisper before poking his glossa out and dragging it over the sensitive receptor, "But you fail to grasp one thing."

Smokescreen shuddered, body heating up at the blissful sensation on the side of his head. He could feel hot oral fluids running between seams and made a small moan because of it. He wondered what it was that he failed to grasp and shakily asked, "What?"

Dreadwing pushed his glossa into the autobot's audio and listened happily to his gasp and drank in his arches. He smirked before answering the innocent little question by pressing his lips back against the side of his head and mumbling, "You've already won the game."

Smokescreen snapped his helm forward at that and stared gapped mouthed at the blue con. How did he win? How could he have won? He didn't do anything other than set there and horribly watch! Yet just as he was about to ask, Dreadwing suddenly hissed and was nearly slammed down on top of his own body.

Smokescreen yelped at the sudden pressure and stayed completely still. When a different form blocked the lights, he looked up and spotted Shockwave mounting Dreadwing from behind. Throwing his helm back, Smokescreen gasped and tried to let the overwhelming fact settle. Shockwave was fragging Dreadwing... right on top of him.

Tears were brought to Smokescreen's optics as the fear from the conflict like action got to him. He felt every rock, roll and hump they made. Dreadwing's helm was pressed into his neck while Shockwave bent over him and pounded mercilessly. The raw attention and force was too unbearable through the bond, and although Smokescreen wasn't feeling any pain he was still afraid.

As Shockwave breeched overload, both Dreadwing and him began to moan from the major pleasure they shared. It rippled through them and oozed out the bond thus wrapping the autobot up in the emotions. They stayed still for a moment, Shockwave just simply leaning against Dreadwing's upper back while they got over their high. Then they both pulled away to look at the autobot.

Smokescreen vented wildly while looking up at his bonded, their exposed bodies facing him along with their gentle and kind stares. It was making him feel confused by the sudden turn of events and feelings. Why weren't they torturing him or slamming him into the wall or on top of the floor?

"As we spoke from the beginning," Dreadwing rested a servo on Shockwave's shoulder and looked at him, "We were merely giving you an observation of what will happen if we are to have a bad day."

Smokescreen relaxed at that and leaned back, feeling an intake of relief sweep into his mouth. He looked down and let the relief settle real deeply before looking back up at his bonded. He smiled and let out a small laugh of realization before his optics suddenly rolled and he collapsed against the berth. Offline.

Shockwave looked over at Dreadwing who simply blinked once at what just happened. "I told you it was not adequate to interface directly in front of him," he pointed, the unconscious proof lying right in front of them.

Dreadwing took a few steps forward and gazed down at the offline autobot. "It was best that he learned," he stated what he believed what was right, "That way he will always know what is to happen if he should ever try anything... bad."

Shockwave walked up beside his partner and proceeded in gazing down at the autobot as well. "Agreed," he replied, "Though the outcome will leave him distrusting and weary for an extended amount of time..."

Dreadwing thought about that for a moment. After what he witnessed tonight, Smokescreen was defiantly going to be terrified and weary around them. And they didn't want him dealing with that stress. "Then why don't we prove to him that that was not our intention?" he suggested before looking over with a naughty smirk.

* * *

 

When Smokescreen woke up the first thing he noted was how warm he was. Exhaustion and stress was slowly easing off his shoulders but it was still there nonetheless. He sighed, feeling tired and draped like a blanket. He vaguely began remembering the other day's lesson and instantly tensed.

The way his bonded had interfaced... it was indescribable. Smokey didn't have words for it. He just knew that he defiantly did not want to be the cause of a bad day... ever.

When the present question of where exactly he was came floating into his processor, Smokescreen began to groan. His first guess was in the medical bay with Knockout and Breakdown, the thought making him grumble. It's usually where he always ended up. But when he opened his optics, he couldn't say that he wasn't surprised.

A purple chassis lined with a black windshield was right in front of his face. A blue arm was wrapped around his waist and heat was averting from everywhere and nowhere at once. Smokescreen felt a little fear come to him when the realization of where he was, struck like lightning. He was lying in-between his bonded. Dreadwing behind him and Shockwave in front of him... And their spikes were still out.

Smokescreen vented silently to himself before managing the courage to look up at the purple con. His small shuffled movement caused both Dreadwing and Shockwave to move in on him and he softly whined. He could feel Dreadwing's spike move between the back of his thighs and scrape up against the area of his port. Shockwave's spike was tapping against the front of his thighs and his body was flush against the front side of his.

Dreadwing held onto the autobot from behind, cuddling him like a teddy bear and enjoying his little shudders. He reached up and traced the side of his face, being gentle and loving the entire time although he couldn't exactly see.

Smokescreen fearfully imagined them both plundering into him but was surprised by the soft attention. He was completely sandwiched between them both, the heat and closeness of their big frames giving off waves of comfort and calmness. Smokescreen fell into it with a stiff feeling, trying to get under the impression as well.

Shockwave looked down at the autobot with a gentle gleam before raising his servo up to pet his blushed cheek as well. Smokescreen looked at him with wide, understanding optics before offlining them and sighing. This was their signal.

Dreadwing nodded and reached down for the autobot's spike and gripped it in his claws. Shockwave reached in-between the bot's thighs and teased his port. Then in an instant, Smokescreen was tensing back up again, wanting to ask what was going on all the sudden but was being shushed.

"Shh," Dreadwing purred into his audios, "We won't harm you... Calm down."

"Enjoy yourself," Shockwave added before gently beginning to push his digit in.

Smokescreen gasped and closed his optics as arousal and lust began to fill him. He was starting to trust which he always believed wasn't a good thing but he didn't feel like being worried right now. He was too tired and scared. So he relaxed and tensed at the same time. The feeling of Shockwave softy penetrating and Dreadwing fisting made his body roll with tidal waves.

Both the decepticons gave off emotions of affection, love, domination, protection, and genuine care. They worked to please their little autobot so that he would be satisfied, pleasured and happy, and not so emotionally distrustful all the time. They truly never did want to hurt him. After the beginning, feeling his emotions, they just had to have Smokescreen in their bond. The young autobot was energetic, confidant, joyful, kind and-at least- powerful to a certain extent.

Lubricant started running out of Smokescreen's port making it easier to finger. Dreadwing could feel the transfluid leaking out the tip of his spike and thumbed it roughly. Smokescreen gasped, arching into Dreadwing while pressing his face into Shockwave's neck. The pleasure was building up inside him like a time bomb ready to explode.

Shockwave made sure to be slow and gentle, moving in the rest of the way with one digit. He was careful not to cut or damage anything because of his sharp finger tips while curling and searching around for sensory nodes. They were everywhere inside Smokescreen, and he was rather fast to find one.

Smokescreen moaned as the sensation inside his port bursts and came to life everywhere, lighting up every energon line inside his body and making his engine rev. He arched even more as Shockwave 'experimentally' pushed into one of the sensitive nodes inside his port and wiggled around.

Dreadwing kissed the back of the bot's neck, the side of his face and audios-kissing anywhere he could reach while pumping his spike at a slow pace. He pressed his chest into him and smirked every time he made a sound of pleasure.

Shockwave pulled his messy, wet digit out and added a second one before slowly moving back in. Softly he moved, scissoring and wiggling his way into sensory seams while rubbing Smokescreen's anterior node with his thumb. He approved when the autobot moaned and arched even more, legs lightly shaking and thighs burning.

"Sh-Shockwave... nngh, that-that feels... good," Smokescreen began to scramble before sighing at the end. He lazily wrapped his arm around the purple con's shoulder and hugged him. "Ahhh, Dreadwing," he moaned as the pleasure inside his spike bloomed and twisted inside his abdomen.

Shockwave added another digit and Dreadwing started pumping harder, fisting and fingering at the same time. Smokescreen was moaning, arching, writhing and complementing how amazing it felt. Any fear, regret, shame, hatred, anger or nervousness in his processor died and he was left as a lustful, pleasured, moaning mess.

Overload was approaching and both the decepticons' could feel and were ready for it. Dreadwing tightened his fist and pumped the spike harder, Shockwave thrusts faster and firmer.

Smokescreen was nearly crying, about ready to push Dreadwing off the berth because he was arching so badly. The intense ball of pleasure in his tank was yearning to explode all throughout his body. "Dread-Shock!" he cried out loud when the overload began rocking through his body.

Smokescreen cried and moaned loudly, legs shuffling, helm shaking and body tightening. Extreme pleasure ran all throughout his body, servos and legs going numb, pelvis aching wonderfully and processor dazed. He moaned heavily and arched one last time before finally settling down.

Dreadwing said a witty "I told ya so" through the bond and winked at Shockwave before shushing their pleased autobot.

Shockwave pulled out of the bot's port and helped to close his interface panel. Dreadwing closed his own panel and waited for his partner to do the same before they both snuggled in on the mech between them.

Smokescreen was still blissfully overloaded high and giggled when they snuggled and nudged him. "You... you tricked me," he whispered.

"So we did," Dreadwing admitted, looking up at his partner and giving off a charming smile. "Rest now, Smokescreen... We won't be here tomorrow."

 


	5. Chapter 5

A month and a half.

Knockout grumbled as he led Smokescreen through the base to his pet owners' room. Primus he hated this job. Why couldn't the vehicons just escort him? Or better yet, why not just use the location power and track Smokescreen so that way he could walk himself?!

Little did the fancy, red medic know that the location stage of the bond has not yet opened. In fact, all Knockout ever thought about the bonded three was that Dreadwing and Shockwave constantly violated Smokescreen to no end. Any scuff marks, dents or chips he would have to buff out seemed to be more like gashes, rips and scratches in his optics; of course, he is Knockout. Every simple mark or wound was much bigger in his optics.

Nobody knew though, nobody knew how Dreadwing and Shockwave treated Smokescreen, the things they did to him or how they did it. And Smokey certainly wasn't open to tell anyone anytime soon.

Smokescreen followed behind the medic, actually glad he wasn't transported in cuffs or chains like he usually was. Even though it was audio bleeding annoying to listen to Knockout's constant complaining, at least his wrists didn't hurt. Breakdown had recently vanished and Dreadwing had been pretty angry here lately. Smokescreen just hoped this wasn't a bad day.

"I swear that the unfairness from this punishment will leave me as old and as creaking as Primus," Knockout groaned, wanting to do something-anything-else besides guiding this autodummy around, "A pet has owners and owners are supposed to be responsible for their pets so why aren't your pet owners taking responsibility?"

Smokescreen rolled his optics and made a small noise of aggravation, tired of all the complaining. He was also lost in thought, thinking about how today might affect him.

They were just two corners away from making it to Dreadwing's room when a loud sounding crash suddenly happened followed by an alarming series of gun fire. Knockout turned around swiftly, pinpointing the direction the commotion was coming from. A vehicon was standing in front of an open doorway, pointing at the entrance and hollering, "Autobots!"

Alerted, Knockout began running towards the battle leaving a certain someone behind by himself. Smokescreen stared in awe at what was happening. He couldn't see the battle but he could hear it, knowing that it was coming from the control center. His friends were here? How? It amazed the autobot and gave him hope.

Just as Smokescreen thought he was home free and ready to help his friends, he stopped... And remembered. His friends had had enough of him, they believed he was plotting something, kicked him off the team and made an endless face of hatred thrown his way. That silence. Everything had begun to shut out as Smokescreen thought about that silence when he looked at each one of the team members before they urged him away.

Smokey tried to never think of the autobots even though he wanted so badly to be at their side and help kick con tailpipe. It hurt anymore to think about them. Frowning, Smokescreen almost forgot about the battle and soon was knocked from his deep thoughts as a panel on the wall opened. Curious, he looked at it, questioning what was going on.

"Get them!" none other than Megatron roared from way down the hall.

Smokescreen gasped and lifted his helm, seeing a familiar dark green and yellow quickly approaching from down the hall. Afraid and stricken with panic, Smokescreen moved closer to the open panel, careful not to fall out as he leaned back against the wide wall to try and hide from the autobots. He didn't want them seeing him. What would they even do if they did see him? Nothing, because they hate him, that's what.

"Retrieve the relics!" Megatron roared again.

Helm snapping in realization, Smokey now knew what the autobots had that was so important. He vented heavily, trying to decide what to do. He could hear the quick stomp of pedsteps as his past team members ran down the hall. Should he run with them and try to escape? Should he help them and regain their loyalty? Or should he just stay put?

A space bridge portal opened up down the hallway just in front of Smokey who gasped when Bulkhead and Bumblebee ran right past it. "Where is the portal, Ratchet?" Bulkhead asked demandingly over the commlink, shooting back at vehicons.

Bumblebee was right beside him, their backs to an old friend. He beeped in both urge and fear, trying to get away from the decepticons. Smokescreen wanted nothing more than to holler and say that the portal was right there but he just... couldn't decide. Couldn't choose what he wanted to do.

Just as Smokescreen was about to make his move, Megatron landed in front of the open panel, blocking his small body from any optics. No one knew Smokescreen was there, so when Megatron vastly swung his arm with the dual sword back, no one comprehended when he sent said bot flying out of the ship. Bulkhead, Bumblebee and what other decepticons were nearby just kept fighting, not one knowing who's life they just put in danger.

Ten thousand feet high Smokescreen fell. The sky was midday, solid blue, and from what he could tell past the blinding sun was that the decepticon ship was moving too fast north to follow. It was already vanishing so quickly that he didn't know what to do.

In the large, mindless amount of time he was falling, Smokescreen soon was met hard-not by the hard surface of solid earth- but by trees. Big large trees nestled the autobot as he fell roughly through them, breaking their branches and tearing their lush leaves apart. Smokescreen screamed, yelled and hollered as enormous shots of pain racked every inch of his body. He got tangled up in the mess of vines and wet leaves but soon was forced down to the ground when a big branch hit his chassis.

The crushed autobot lay still for a moment while calming his freaked out processor and going over his CPU. The pain was bad, nearly unbearable and burning. Smokescreen felt like he was on fire. From what the internal damage report informed, he had a dislocated knee, minor spinal damage, a slightly bent door wing and a massive helmache.

Groaning, Smokescreen slowly onlined his tired optics and began to set up. "Ahh! What the frag..." he flinched when a sudden sharp jolt rammed up his back and stunned his processor. "What's...?" he tried moving again, wincing each time he caused a jolt of pain.

When he was sat up enough, Smokescreen reached back and ran his servo down his wounded back and stopped when he felt something that shouldn't be there. A rather large tree branch had lodged into his lower back just beside his hip. Jerking his arm back in alert, Smokescreen grew utterly terrified trying to think of what he should do.

His commlink was shut down, he didn't have enough energon or fuel to pull the branch out and power down. He seemed to be stuck in a forest or jungle. Smokescreen didn't know much about human territory so he didn't really do much other than stare confusingly at the endless green mess of life all around him. He was hurting too bad to concentrate on his surroundings to fully rate himself aware that he was positively safe.

Taking in a few deep intakes, Smokescreen reached back for the branch again, this time wrapping his servo around it and ignoring the pain as best he could. He pulled and cried out, flinching away, "Ow-ow...hsss, come on…" He pulled himself together and wrapped both servos around the branch and pulled, muffling his cries of pain, "Mm-mm-mmmhhhh!"

The large stick took effort to wrench out, the agonizing slow pace of its departure hurting so badly that Smokescreen screamed when he finally got it out and dropped it behind him. Bright blue energon quickly began to expel from his body as the large, deep gash left its own warnings. Smokescreen noted that it was a pretty bad wound and cringed in both fear and pain.

Looking around, Smokescreen tried to take in his surrounding as the reality of being utterly lost settled in. He heard noises, some he didn't quite familiarize with and jumped to the side, hissing in pain but scanning the area. The loud sounds of the forest began pouncing the poor autobot who was unaware that he scared most nature more than it scared him.

Smokescreen quickly tried standing up to his unbalanced peds but as soon as he took the first step his left knee gave out in a fit of pain and he fell forward. Falling on his front this time, Smokescreen made loud 'oof' sound and tried recovering quickly from the rough landing.

"Awh! What am I gonna do?" he moped, desperately in need of assistance and lifted pain. Even though no one was around to hear his cries, he still blurted them, "It hurts so bad... so bad."

Clenching his optics shut, Smokescreen hummed confusingly when his monitor onlined and beeped continuously like it was excited. Reading over the small data it was giving, the autobot opened his optics and lifted his helm in a certain direction in which his monitor said was an energon reading. Staring, Smokescreen wanted to stay put and not move but the leaking wound warned him that he would not be online very long if he remained here.

Once again, Smokescreen stood up and wearily tried taking a step forward but stumbled. He reached for and grabbed onto the closest tree he saw and clutched it before he could fall again. Gasping and venting heavily, he tried reading back over the coordinates to the energon spotting and grunted while pushing himself back up.

It took a lot of stumbling, falling and crawling to finally get to the exact location of the signal. Smokescreen was so low on energon that he thought he might offline soon with how woozy and tired he felt. He focused though, and blinked up at the big cliff he was faced with. It was like a gigantic, grey, flat rock with many different craters and holes in it. Further down the wall there's a waterfall but Smokey didn't care about that right now.

With the loss of support from the trees, Smokescreen had to crawl into the one hole that was giving off the strangest signal. He remembered Ratchet calling these caves or mines or something. Whatever it was, he just continued to crawl, once collapsing on his stomach and groaning before getting back up again.

The venture through the forest wasn't that long or messy. It had just rained and the area he had walked through was very tall with grass and other plants. Nothing more than a few jammed twigs and stuck leaves were on his frame. Smokescreen didn't really favor the wounds however.

When he made it a hundred feet or so into the cave, bright blue light began to avert from the left. Following it, Smokey began to ripple with excitement as he started seeing promising energon crystals. His optics remained stuck on the first patch he saw while crawling towards it. Eagerly he yanked a piece off and brought it to his damp derma, drinking hungrily.

Smokescreen continued to look down while drinking three more pieces of energon before settling down against the floor and calming. When he looked up, his optics nearly fell out. There in front of him was the biggest storage of energon he had ever seen before. It was even bigger than what Ratchet found when he was hyped up on synthetic energon. And Smokescreen awed its magnificence.

"W-whoa! With all this stuff I could rule Cybertron," the autobot chuckled to himself while thinking of such a silly idea. His small humor trying to ease his still panicked mind. "With all this, I wouldn't need the autobots o-or the decepticons! I could live my own life and not have to follow anybodies rules!"

As exciting and hopeful as it seemed to be, Smokey's smile fell when he thought about his friends and bonded. Technically he still was an autobot and he truly wanted to help rebuild Cybertron before the cons take it over, but the one true autobot leader banished him. So he wasn't really anybody now... was he?

The autobots were still fighting, still trying to defend their home and Smokescreen could help their struggle right now by calling them, when his system boots up, and telling them where the energon was at. He could earn their trust, pride and welcoming by giving them these coordinates'. "But what if they think it's a trick?" he breathed.

Smokescreen began to imagine the dark side of this decision. The autobots arriving, standing right in front of his wounded frame, idly suspicious. Their looks of hatred, distrust and anger. 'The energon is probably poisoned, this is a trick, let's get out of here... this idiot is wasting our time.' He could hear the thoughts they would be thinking. Then one by one they will bear down upon his beat form, shaking their helms in disappointment before turning away. And no matter how hard he tries to beg, they will not listen, just continue to act like he was a good for nothing virus.

Smokescreen didn't know if he could stand to see it again, feel the dismissal and hear their voices like that. The look Optimus would give; it was the saddest, most spark piercing sight to Smokescreen who only ever wanted to make the prime proud to begin with. And now look...

Smokescreen could just call the autobots and send them the coordinates' through a message. That would be pretty helpful, he would think. At least, in some way, he would be supporting the autobot cause even though no one really knew it. But what good what that do for him?

Sighing in frustration, Smokescreen grabbed some more energon and stood up, careful to catch himself before he fell. Being more fueled gave him some energy and strength so he was able to stumble to the cave entrance where he sat back down against the wall. Every so often he would wince from the pain but mostly just stayed rooted in his thoughts.

The eco system before him moved on and on, ignoring him like he wasn't there at all. He stared at it, not able to see the sky through all the heavy trees and occasionally being splashed by dribbles of collected rain water. Smokescreen pulled most of the leaves and sticks off him before drinking more energon.

Concern and confusion swirled inside Smokescreen's chassis making him gap in realization. Dreadwing and Shockwave! They don't know where he's at or what's happened to him. Oh, what if they thought he tried escaping? What if they thought the autobots captured him? Worry filled him and he sat up slightly, thinking about what to do before he processed what he was doing.

"Wait... why do I even care anyway? They're so far gone," he mumbled clearly to himself, "I don't have to be... anymore." Smokescreen stopped and lifted his helm as anger from his bonded filled his chassis along with desperation.

What the anger was from, Smokey did not know. All he knew was that he didn't know what to do. If he stood to tell the truth, he would admit that his bonded had taken good care of him and treated him decently enough that he didn't feel violated. That was so much better than being grounded by the autobots, yelled at by Ratchet or frowned upon by Optimus.

Smokescreen was stuck. That's it. He was utterly pinned to each one of his choices. He didn't know what to do. Each idea had its own consequences and benefits; if he called the autobots then they would either trash him again or welcome him back onto the team, if he gave them the coordinates willingly then they would have more recourse for winning but he would probably die, if his bonded found him then they would either punish him or award him, and if he just ran off all by himself with all this loot then he wouldn't have to do anything except face the loneliness.

Smokescreen sat back again and sipped on the last energon crystal while thinking. It was time to make a choice. His commlink shortly began to online and he tested it out to see if it worked. It did. Then he tried to test how far his signal could be reached. Not very far.

The thick forest must contain any high wave frequency pretty thoroughly. Nothing could go out, basically. The constant rain, wet leaves, strong trees and loud animals was all too much to get a clear signal from; that's why no one has found this place or the treasures hidden deep inside.

After a few hours of thinking, it started to get dark so Smokey finally decided and stood up before going back into the cave. He grabbed and arm full of energon and headed back toward the entrance where exhaustion pounded inside his chest causing him to fall forward yet again. He dropped the energon and landed on his front, groaning before offlining his tired optics and relaxing his sore body.

He didn't go into recharge yet, just rested and waited until whenever. His decision was uncertain but made. He eventually heard the wind outside become mixed in direction indicating something obvious. A space ship. But weather it was the Jackhammer or the con ship, no one knows. It didn't take that much longer when the nature went quiet and the familiar sound of pedsteps on wet leaves echoed through his audios. Smokescreen blinked but did not move even when he heard the comers enter the cave. Helm barely moving, he looked up at the two that apparently entered the cave and frowned before offlining his optics. But whether it was Optimus and Ratchet or Dreadwing and Shockwave, no one knows.

All Smokescreen did was suck in a ventilation and sigh it out before completely shutting down.

* * *

 

"How are his injuries?" Optimus Prime asked his own medic from inside the base.

Ratchet turned around to face his leader before looking back down at some data, "Minor. His body is trying to malfunction, severe energon loss and another wounded leg."

Optimus looked down at the table where the team member laid offline. It wasn't too much to worry about though; he wouldn't die as long as he stays at Ratchet's care. "How long until he may awaken?" the prime asked, face not showing much more than a tiny hint of concern.

"I am... not sure," Ratchet answered hesitantly while looking away, "He could online any nanoklik or any cycle; it just depends on how quickly his repair kit reboots."

"It was a bad choice to have sent them off like that," Ultra Magnus stated from behind while looking at the wounded soldier, "Direct contact with Lord Megatron is all but promising."

The autobots, those dodo brains, sent Bulkhead and Bumblebee off by their selves to try and retrieve the relics and now Bulkhead is suffering his fate. Bumblebee was able to get one relic but not without his best friend havening to suffer big time.

"Understood," Optimus said out loud, "We cannot risk anymore than what we have. Arcee is already in need of excess quantities we can hardly afford."

"Affirmative," Ultra Magnus wanted to fall back into a random chair and palm his face until the paint is left scraped off and ugly. This was all too stressful to process.

Wheeljack stood leaning against the entrance with his helm down, being one of the very few stable of the autobots. "I'm here to tell ya, we could really use an extra servo right now," he stated out loud, helm still down and arms crossed.

Ratchet was the first to react, making that stupid sound of his before lifting his arms out, "If you are going back to your fit about Smokescreen then forget it, Wheeljack. He betrayed us and was expelled from Team Prime. That's. It."

Wheeljack lifted his helm and gave a disgusted glare, "How would you know? You didn't even see one half of the slag I did... how could ya think Smoke would wanna betray any of us? The kid practically loved Prime and you're telling that you have the mental capacity to offer Starscream a truce after finding out he's the aft that murdered Cliffjumper?"

Cliffjumper was hardly a deal brought up and it captured everyone's attention. Most knew how close Wheeljack and Cliffjumper were and how bad it must have hurt to learn what happened to him. Let's just say that Jackie isn't as talkative as he use to be. The wrecker's voice had grown rougher the more he spoke.

"We need backup," Wheeljack rolled his optics, hating the silence that now took over the once proud base of the autobots, "And Smoke would be a key player. You all just won't give him a chance to prove himself."

"Wheeljack, enough," Optimus stood forward to silence the wrecker who wasn't helping anything or anyone out.

Wheeljack only shrugged in aggravation and rolled his optics, nearly scoffing. "It's always 'enough' with you guys," he mumbled before turning around to leave, "Before you choose to ignore me, I want ya to think about Bulk, just look at him and think about what he would look like if he woulda just had help. If ya need me, I'll be in the Jack hammer."

Bumblebee frowned and made a small beep when the wrecker disappeared, looking over at the others. Optimus looked lost, stressed and stuck like he wanted to consider the idea or he was actually thinking about what Wheeljack said. Ultra Magnus, Bumblebee and Wheeljack were the only three who really wanted Smokescreen back. Ratchet, Arcee and Bulkhead truly believed he was a traitor. And Optimus was only doing what he believed was right.

But they were running short on both autobots and supplies. They needed some extra help and it would be awesome if they had another servo but it was just too risky. The humans seemed upset about Smokescreen as well, missing his energetic and always excited presence. Raf, Miko and Jack had simply been told that Smoke went on a mission and never came back. They were left let down and sad for a while, and even now, they were still sad.

When Miko finds out what happened to Bulkhead, she will be extremely upset and no one was ready for that. "Wheeljack is a wrecker," Ratchet grumbled before turning back around to work, "Let his foolish behavior continue for all I care; it won't last him very long."

"Wheeljack has lost a great deal of comrades in his history; Cliffjumper and Seaspray most of all," Ultra Magnus stated out loud, "Considering he hadn't known Smokescreen that long, their relationship was not strong, but I do believe it was genuine."

"And with Smokescreen gone now, Wheeljack has a tough time expressing his emotions especially since Bulkhead's life has been at risk a second time," Optimus added.

Ratchet closed his optics and sighed, "But when will he learn that Smokescreen was not our friend? I'm tired of listening to constant complaining about him."

Just like everyone is sick of listening to you. Ultra Magnus wanted to speak his processor but sided against it and just walked off.

Optimus walked up behind the medic and waited for him to turn around and face him, "Slowly, my friend."

Ratchet remembered what Optimus always use to say and made a faint smile. "Slow but steady," he whispered to himself.

Optimus showed off a small smile, a very rarely expressed thing for a prime to do, before walking away. Bumblebee beeped happily when the prime he loved wrapped and arm around him and gently pulled him close. After Megatron's victory day, Bee and Prime had been very close, closer than most. The young scout beeped up at his leader who looked down at him.

"I don't know what is to become of his fate, Bumblebee," Optimus stated, smile disappearing, "It all depends on the choices he makes."

And at that moment, the autobots got a message. The main screen lit up making nearly everyone gather round.

* * *

 

When Smokescreen opened his optics he first noticed a purple figure not too far away. To his side was familiar blue that made his helm turn. "Dreadwing?" his vision albeit blurred wouldn't really concentrate and he closed them in a moment of pain, wiggling around.

Dreadwing descended his servo and gently pushed on the autobot's chassis. "Do not move, it will only make it worse," he had a sternness in his voice but it was mostly soft.

Smokescreen clenched his optics one more time before opening them and looking up at the big decepticon. He didn't know what to say but weakly started with, "I... I didn't jump-

"We know," Dreadwing turned his helm away as if he felt guilty, "Shockwave directed Knockout to check over the monitors and our coordinates at the time. We were able to pinpoint your location and find you after you sent that message."

Smokescreen closed his optics and tried to stifle a whimper of mixed emotions. He didn't know what to say; his choice was now setting heavily on his shoulders and he didn't know what would happen.

"Why would you do that?" Dreadwing asked in a most hesitant and lightly confused voice.

Shockwave too had looked over at this, clearly interested in what their autobot had to say. Smokescreen opened his optics and looked up, "I didn't jump for slag!"

"I meant the message," Dreadwing corrected, "why did you send us that message when you could have contacted the autobots."

"Better yet, why did you hesitate to help them during Megatron's attack?" Shockwave added while walking over to the berth with a medical tool in his servo.

Smokescreen shifted his attention to the tool swaying in the purple con's servo and figured that his bonded were actually taking their time to fix him-not just sending him off to Knockout. "Just because," he answered, not wanting to say anything else.

Dreadwing leaned over from where he was setting and urged on, "No, tell us."

Such curious cons'. Smokescreen shook his helm and made a stubborn noise, "I-I was in pain and I... I didn't like that place; it was creeping me out."

Shockwave stopped beside the berth, "That is illogical. You had an opportunity to contact the autobots at any given time yet you chose to wait. If you were desperate from pain, you would have contacted someone immediately."

"So why wait?" Dreadwing asked, optics squinted in suspicion, "furthermore, why contact us when you could have the autobots?"

Agh, Smokescreen didn't like this question and wanted to find a way around it. "Are decepticons always this nosy?" he asked, optics shut in fear that they might blow him up, "My business it my own alright. It wouldn't matter to you anyway..."

Dreadwing looked up at Shockwave and they both took a moment to privately talk to one another through the bond. Primus they wanted to know what was wrong with their autobot, wanted to know what his true intentions were and if he really was telling the truth or not.

After making up their minds, Dreadwing leaned back and pushed himself up to his peds. "Allow Shockwave to examine you're injuries. I will be back shortly," he commanded in a soft voice before walking towards the door.

Smokescreen watched him leave with wide and confused optics but didn't voice his building question list. When he was totally gone, he looked up at the purple con and frowned before looking way. "So what happened here? Why'd the bots' show up?"

Shockwave looked down at the autobot's leg were the joints were loose and the mettle was jagged. "The autobots invaded the ship trying to steal the omega keys. They succeeded and escaped with one of them yet had to leave the other behind," he explained while running his servo over the bot's wounded knee.

Smokescreen hissed and tried not to express his pain by biting his lip. One thing he didn't know was that Dreadwing and Shockwave had felt his pain and emotions the entire time he was gone. They felt his fear, anger, excitement, pain, hatred and hurt. It was a fraggin mental roller coaster.

"S-so what?" Smokescreen kept his optics closed, talking sarcastically, "did Knockout finally get his finished totaled or does he just have a ton of vehicons at his feet?"

"Neither," Shockwave stated, kneeling down and prying small latches under the top layer of armor to expose the damage underneath, "We had informed Knockout to sterilize you before authorizing to bring you to us."

Smokescreen opened his optics and gazed down at the purple con. "Why would you do that?"

Shockwave stopped working on the bot's leg and looked back at his optics. "We had made a promise to care for you and that is what I am proceeding in doing." They shared a long moment of optic contact before Smokescreen blinked and Shockwave turned his attention back to his tools.

The autobot's knee was simply snapped out of place which wasn't all that bad to be honest. "Brace yourself," he warned while shifting the arm with his gun on one side of Smokescreen's knee while placing his servo on the other side.

Said bot tensed and stuttered, "Wha-what are you doing?" Before his answer came however, a sudden sharp, shifty pain traveled all the way up his leg followed by a big snap. "Oww!"

Shockwave held his knee in place, giving it time to readjust back into its latches and other attaching equipment while ignoring the bot's endless pouting. When Smokescreen tried setting up, he quickly moved forward to push him back. "Do not move," he demanded, this time with his voice more serious.

"But it hurts!" Smokescreen snapped, wanting to grasp and hold his injuries.

Shockwave nodded, "Moving will intensify the pain. I need to examine your rotating flexor to notify what tools are required in order to repair it."

Smokescreen closed his optics and clenched his denta in pain, not wanting to feel the sharp jolts as the decepticon worked on him. To ease his processor, he tried thinking about something else besides the decepticon working on him. In a less stubborn part of his mind, he knew Shockwave was only trying to help him and he was making it harder.

As the purple con rested his servo on the bot's hip, he looked at the damage and soon collected the data he stored all together. "Turn to your right side," he instructed while walking away to get some tools.

Smokescreen looked back at him before simply following the order, wincing at the pain that followed when he moved. It took effort but he was soon in the position his bonded wanted him in. Tools gathered, Shockwave started walking back, checking out the gorgeous autobot on his way. Oh how he wanted to spoon with that slim little backside, hump and cuddle the autobot as he moaned delicately in his arms.

But there was a job that was more important as of this moment. Shockwave returned and sat his tools down before grabbing the first one he needed. He measured the large gash and grabbed the small vice before bending the wire back into place and denting out damaged plating. Then he grabbed the welder and began the most painful process.

Smokescreen closed his optics and cringed at the severe heat and pressure that was building in his lower back but tried to ignore it. Though it didn't take long, Shockwave went back and forth between the vice, welder and hammer. In an attempt to entertain himself, Smokescreen asked out of sheer curiosity, "So did you get the energon I found?"

Shockwave had paused in his work while feeling the autobot's true curiosity and... excitement in the question. "Affirmative, Knockout and Dreadwing are currently transporting the energon aboard the ship."

"And?" Smokescreen asked, wanting to know how they approved of his accomplishment.

Shockwave paused again and felt pure amusement in how the autobot was so eager to know how they approved of him. It was as if he had plotted this from this start. "Megatron was undoubtedly impressed by your discovery and has awarded Dreadwing and I few days in our lonesome."

Smokescreen tried to turn his helm back to look at the purple con. "And how do you feel, you know, about me finding it?"

The questions never ceased to amaze the purple con and he shared them openly with Dreadwing through the bond. The autobot seemed to really wanna impress them, to know their approval and get their respect. "I and Dreadwing also were highly impressed. We would not have processed you making such a decision... It was surprising."

Smokescreen smiled while feeling a giddy, warm, fluffy feeling envelope his spark and rile him up. He felt good, like he had actually done something right. Even though they were no Optimus, the cons' were harder to impress, and to think that he made Megatron, of all mechs, impressed felt pretty damn crazy.

"You bet it was surprising," Smokey smugly mumbled while turning his head back around, lost in his thoughts.

Shockwave would smile if he had a mouth, but instead he just looked back down and continued his work, finishing the last of his welding. Him and Dreadwing were more than just surprised by their autobot's shared discovery and were even more surprised that he had actually messaged them his position.

It didn't take too much longer until Shockwave was finished repairing the autobot's leg and was now allowing it to cool. "Your internal repairs should be reviving momentarily, but the severe damage done to it may cause minor defects in the future," the purple con explained from a ways off to the left in front of a screen.

Smokescreen closed his optics and groaned out in unfairness. "Can you fix it?" he asked in a whiny voice, not wanting to have to deal with this problem for long.

Shockwave looked at him with that blank and unreadable stare. "In time," he answered.

The door opened and both Smokescreen and Shockwave looked over to see Dreadwing entering the room. His big arms were full of energon that he carried to a random spot in the room and sat on the floor. Then the dark blue mech grabbed three cubes and began walking over to the berth.

Smokescreen had sat up rather quickly, wanting fuel for how badly he was hurting. Shockwave had walked over as well and placed a servo on his shoulder, "Smokescreen, what did I inform you about moving too quickly?"

Smokescreen made a noise of pain and clutched his lower back, "Ahh! That'll hurt like slag?"

Dreadwing wanted to laugh but instead just smiled while setting down on the edge of the berth. "Correct," he said while handing Shockwave a cube, "So do as Shockwave says and do not move too much."

Smokescreen lowered his helm and grumbled but soon was enlightened when a cube was handed out to him. He reached for it but hesitated when he noticed what exactly he was doing. Blinking, he slowly retracted his servos and frowned in distrust, feeling that unwillingness flare inside him like it always does.

Dreadwing pulled the cube back and looked at his partner, sighing in the back of their helms once realizing the behavior their autobot was using with them. Smokescreen was never good at accepting energon or fuel. "You lost a lot of energon today, Smokescreen," Dreadwing pointed, "You must refuel or else Shockwave will have to get the syringe."

Smokescreen lifted his helm, the same frown still pulled back on his face. "It's not like I haven't been in enough pain today," he blurted stubbornly.

Dreadwing just gave off a half disappointed face before handing the energon to Shockwave who stared for a moment and then began walking off. Smokescreen watched, biting his lip before lifting his servo up. "Ok, ok, I'll drink it," he x-vented tiredly.

Shockwave handed the bot his cube and gave off a satisfied rumble when he took it. Both Dreadwing and Shockwave spoke to each other through the bond, trying to figure things out and just talking about average problems, advantages and ideas. Soon, after Smokey finished half his cube, Dreadwing got interested in seeing his wounds.

Smokescreen flinched and jerked away when the con surprisingly rest a servo on his knee. "H-hey," he protested.

"Does it hurt that badly?" the blue con mumbled and watched as the autobot nodded in a weak attempt to get him to stop touching.

Dreadwing only shifted though and pushed Smokescreen's legs apart before leaning down to look at his knee. There were exposed wires from his protoform underneath in which revealed far sensitive material. The protective armor that usually hides all of the sensitive stuff was being repaired before it could be put back on. The blue decepticon gathered information that Shockwave threw at him and gently reached in to touch the wound.

Smokescreen sat up even more, nearly choking on his energon when a little tingle of pain traveled up his leg. "Ehk! B-be careful!" he tried glaring to show how badly he didn't want to be touched, but the decepticons only seemed to change his attitude so quickly with just their blank stares that his anger turned from aggression to absolute terror.

The two mechs obviously knew what they were doing to Smokescreen every time they looked at him like that, and only seemed to send off comforting emotions to calm him. They wished Smokescreen wouldn't be so scared of them so suddenly in untimed situations, but he was still having trouble settling in. Things were still new to him and he just got beat to scrap by the earth so it was to be expected.

"So it does hurt," Dreadwing stated more, his optics doing a sly roll as he gazed down at the small wound, rubbing the corners softly. Smokey whimpered in the back of his chest, hoping not to be hurt. Dreadwing seemed to be thinking about something by how his helm slowly tilted and turned before completely lowering.

Before he had time to protest what was going to happen, Smokey gasped when he felt warm metal lips press against his wounded knee. His helm rose, mouth gapped and optics fluttered in surprise as the gentle contact tickled more than burned. Shockwave watched, taking the autobot's distraction to advantage by moving behind him while he wasn't watching.

Dreadwing unexpectedly unleashed his glossa and gently dragged it over the sore sensors. Dipping in, being careful as he moved around the small, overly sensitive area. Smokescreen hadn't expected such an action or the tingly wonderful feelings that would rouse from it.

The autobot obediently shifted as the blue decepticon slowly started kissing up his leg, nearly flinching when he felt an intruding servo on his one injured door wing. Smokescreen looked behind him to see Shockwave rubbing at his backside and gazing at him with that lustful shade of red. Simply enjoying the attention, aware that they could change and attack any moment, Smokey closed his optics and leaned into the touch when Dreadwing reached his upper thighs.

Dreadwing was seriously only a meter smaller than Megatron and was just as bulky, making Smokescreen seem easily crushable in the manner, and Shockwave was only ever so much shorter. Really, they both were both pretty damn massive and totally caged the small autobot in between their frames.

Just before Dreadwing's talented, golden lips could reach the interface panel; he looked up at the pleasured bot and smirked. Primus Smokey looked so good like that; cheeks delectably flushed, arms slightly shaky in pleasure, optics closed in consent and vents deliciously hitching the more their explorations continued. Thus wanting more, Dreadwing continued until he got to the closed panel where he sucked on the warm metal.

Smokescreen opened his mouth in anticipation, not remembering any time when he had felt something so... intimate done to him. He had sucked on Dreadwing's spike before but never had they done something like this. Smokey liked it and spread his legs even wider before allowing his panel to retract.

Shockwave spoke sneakily to Dreadwing through the bond while continuing rubbing the bot's wings for a distraction. He took the further unnoticed moments to set on his knees behind Smokescreen before he leaned back too much to where he would probably fall off the berth.

At that time, Dreadwing's glossa dove straight into his valve. Smokescreen made a surprised sound and jerked, optics clenching at the shock. That skilled glossa ran down the middle of his delicate folds before circling his sweet port in which tightly contrasted on nothing. Dreadwing kept teasing him however, his glossa only softly pushing at his entrance.

"M-more," he breathlessly ordered, sounding absolutely pathetic but surely hot. "Mmm-more, D-Dreadwing, ahh!"

Dreadwing reached up and gently stroked the injury at the bot's lower back while pressing his face more in between his legs and licking further into him. His glossa was slow as it entered the desperate port.

Pleasure shot up into the autobot's helm and flashed the overwhelming image of a decepticon between his legs, devouring his valve. "L-like that, yeah," he timidly encouraged, helm tilted back to where it was bumping Shockwave's shoulder, "Yeeesss!"

Dreadwing wiggled his glossa around a bit, growling and savoring the autobot's taste before pulling out. Languidly he dragged his way through the lush walls before stopping upon the anterior node. Smokescreen's optics shuttered and his tank twisted with pleasure, the pressure building in his pelvis and throbbing everywhere else. Lubricant leaked out him like liquid fire before the decepticon thoroughly lapped it up.

"Ahoohhh," Smokescreen moaned before doing a breathless gasp again and growing full of pleasure as it desperately pumped through his lines like a flooded river, "Dreadwing!"

Dreadwing finally wrapped his wet lips tightly around the bot's lit-to-life node and sucked. At first it was another tease until he angled his helm and began sucking more roughly. This caused his audios to warm up at the sound of wonderful surprise his autobot brokenly gasped before mindlessly whimpering.

Smokescreen took it all in, his abused frame forgetting the minor pain and focusing on the amazing pleasure coming from a con's glossa. His helm consisted of lazily rolling forward to watch or tilting backward to silently moan.

Dreadwing made wet sounds while sucking on the swelling node, gently nudging it with his denta before soothing it quickly. He then leaned back down, pulling the bot closer by the aft and smothering his mouth into his pulsing valve. Taking in his pleas, Dreadwing viscously began licking in the area just beneath his anterior node. Quickly and roughly.

Smokescreen arched once more and cried out in pleasure as an intense overload began to happen. His port clenched and rippled as the glossa continued its incomprehensively fast administration. As the extreme pleasure moved through his body in storm waves, Smokey moaned Dreadwing's name.

Well, Smokescreen sure knows how to turn the bad days into something else.

Dreadwing gave the shaking autobot's valve one last loving lick before moving back to wipe at his messy face. Smokescreen smiled and blushed at him, optics squinted tiredly as he enjoyed the last bit of pleasure rolling through him. The blue decepticon smirked before crawling between his legs and continuing his forgotten kiss trail up the autobot's body.

Smokescreen squirmed in discomfort when the decepticon stopped at his side to kiss the mended tree wound. It hurt but mostly turned into a pleasing burn and, like his processor, enlightened at the affection. The autobot relaxed and waited for the blue con to work his way up to his lips.

Dreadwing kissed over the bot's hot tank and over his rapidly beating chassis before stopping to nuzzle his neck, licking it. Another gasp and Smokescreen was wrapping one unbalanced arm around the con as he continued his wonderful attentions on his neck. But soon the contact broke and they were face to face.

Shockwave observed, feeling the autobot's pleasure, anticipation and joy as he leaned against his chassis, relying on his presence to keep him from falling backwards. Dreadwing kissed the bot's sweetly blushed cheeks before finally stopping at his lips.

It was slow at first, interface warming and hot. Dreadwing opened his mouth the same time Smokey did and at the same time they closed together, giving off a loud suckle sound before the bigger mech pushed into the smaller mouth. Then the real messy sounds started to happen. Smokescreen moaned, overpowered by trust and much needed attention.

Dreadwing pulled away from the kiss and vented hotly against the bot's audio receptor, "Feel good?"

Smokescreen shifted, arm loosely hanging around the con's neck and shoulder while he drifted off in wanderlust city. "Mmm, yeah," he moaned.

Dreadwing smirked and reached in for another kiss, latching onto those puckered lips and staring into those tired optics. "You taste so good," he breathed against his sensitive audios, "I could devour you all night."

If Smokey weren't so tired and drowned in lust then he would definitely be freaked out, but right now he didn't care. He simply hummed and offlined his optics, body leaning more back against Shockwave who was rubbing his hips.

"You should rest now," Dreadwing cupped his face and waited for those drowsy optics to look at him, "You'll feel better tomorrow."

Smokescreen smiled, "I feel better know thanks to you guys."

Oh, if that didn't just light up Shockwave and Dreadwing's sparks. The two cons looked at each other, albeit surprised and flattered. Smiles were exchanged before they helped Smokescreen to lie down comfortably on his side and close his optics for recharge.


	6. Chapter 6

Smokescreen walked around Dreadwing's room, trying to find something that'll entertain him and save him from this life consuming boredom. After a morning checkup and a lecture from Knockout to be 'more careful' during interface, Shockwave had gotten him all fixed up. His door wing was dented out, his back was welded clear and buffed out, his knee was still sore but had its protective armor back on and a new coat of paint was clear over his body.

Dreadwing and Shockwave had fashioned their own little decepticon insignias on Smokescreen's door wings. The right wing had Dreadwing's name printed on it along with a small blue con insignia beside it. The same with Shockwave's except on the opposite wing and printed in purple. They were in his inner wings so Smokey actually never knew they were there.

Both Dreadwing and Shockwave had been surprised that Knockout would do such a thing for them. It had never been addressed clearly, but in time they had come to like it although Smokescreen wasn't even a decepticon.

"So what did you say Megatron was doing with the energon?" Smokey asked while looking at the stacked ration of high grade in the corner of the room. For being the genius who found the stuff, he wanted to know good and well why Megatron was throwing it away.

"Megatron is attempting to use the energon to persuade Optimus and his team to hand over the Omega keys," Shockwave answered from where he stood, looking down at data logs with Dreadwing.

Smokescreen sighed, hoping his friends would make the right choice. At least in some way they would get help. "And what'd they choose?" he asked while poking at some purple liquid contained in a beaker that was labeled 'hazardous.'

"Optimus Prime has not yet decided," Shockwave replied in his monotone voice, "Megatron is still currently waiting for a reply."

That gave Smokey an idea as he moved around, acting interested in the strange drawings of ideas, maps, plans and procedures that were hanging on the walls. "How long till he answers him?" he acted nonchalant like he didn't care, examining the weird glasses that were set all around the room, each seeming to contain its own different colored liquid.

"Uncertain," Shockwave said, "Megatron's previous message took precisely three cycles to obtain. Considering Optimus Prime is currently deciding, the duration could take less or longer time."

"We should go do something then!" Smokey finally blurted in excitement, trying to rile the other two mechs up. "You've been cooped up in this ship for Primus knows how long, setting like sparklings and taking orders from lord Legatron. You need to take some time off, get some fresh air; we autobots do it all the time and look how awesome we are!"

Dreadwing stood up and approached the young bot, "Do not dishonor Lord Megatron's name."

Smokescreen huffed and rolled his optics.

Shockwave turned away from what he was doing and stood beside his partner, "That would be illogical; we do not need the air on planet earth."

Again Smokey rolled his optics except this time more dramatically with a loud, aggravated sound. "Ugh! That's not what I mean. You just need some time off, take the time to relax and just... drive."

"I cannot drive," Dreadwing stated the obvious.

"Then fly," Smokescreen scoffed an offering answer.

Shockwave walked forward some more, "Even if we did oblige, where would we go? Most of earth is stationed by humans, and under Megatron's command, we need to remain covered."

Smokescreen gapped before asking, "You guys don't get out much, do you?" He shook his helm sarcastically in disappointment, "No, there are tons of private places on earth. You just gotta know which places are the best. I just fell into a wet heap of trees and no humans found me there."

"That area is highly unaccustomed for driving," Shockwave addressed loudly, almost trying to act baffled by the autobot suggesting such a place.

Smokescreen was getting impatient by their ignorance, "Again, not what I was saying... We could go anywhere; there aren't humans everywhere."

"Then where?" Dreadwing pointedly asked, waiting to hear a fitting place for them to drive in and for him to most certainly fly in.

Smokescreen made a face while trying to remember the name of the states that he remembered being the most deserted of people. "Uhh... you guys have a map by any chance?" he smiled innocently.

Dreadwing gave a half smirk before he and Shockwave turned around to grab the data pad. It took them a moment but they soon brought up a readable map of the country and handed it to Smokey who hummed while searching. "Hmm... I know this place has a lot of space but it's always freezing... Aww, this place is always warm but it's always got people-wait. This place!"

Smokescreen jumped and nearly shoved the data pad in the cons faces. "We went there not long ago searching for an energon signal. The place is nice! It's warm, had lots of land and space. We could go there!" he explained happily, hoping that he could coax them into going.

Dreadwing looked over at Dreadwing who simply took the data and clicked on the state to learn more about it. As he read, he noted that it was populated to the maximum, but was famous for its precious farmland. Smokescreen crossed his digits, eagerly waiting for a good answer. When Shockwave lowered the pad, he looked over at his partner and nodded-deeming it worthy.

"Yes!" Smokescreen jumped again, so happily excited to leave this place and get some exercise.

Dreadwing waved his servos at the bot before he got too reliable, "We'll go under one condition."

Smokey stopped and looked at them, "What?"

"You much refuel before we leave. A full rations energon, not just a quarter," Dreadwing explained thoroughly, the threat of not going ready to spill any moment, "And if we do go on this journey, I and Shockwave would like to share a night of intimacy together... as one."

Smokescreen hadn't interfaced in a while and tensed at the mention of them wanting to do it... and for a whole night! He wasn't sure what they wanted to do or how they wanted to do it, but he couldn't resist asking, "Are you..."

Dreadwing tilted his head in curiosity, "Are we what?"

Smokescreen stiffened, fretting to ask this question. Both the cons could feel his distress and gazed at one another. "Are you having a, you know... bad day?" he timidly asked, servos fidgeting and helm lowered.

"Not unless you make it one," Dreadwing said in a simple voice, sounding like he knew Smokescreen wouldn't even dare to try.

Smokescreen brightened and stood taller, "So you'll come?" He hoped they said a positive answer because he really wanted to transform and... roll out. And if all they wanted was for him to drink some extra energon and spend a night together then he could handle it.

Shockwave and Dreadwing nodded, the blue one leaving the room to address Lord Megatron of his intentions, where they were going and to comm. if he should require his assistance. Shockwave asked Soundwave to come forth to prepare a space bridge to their desired place while Smokescreen quickly drank his energon.

It all took about ten minutes and they were back together again, ready to leave for the remainder of the day. Shockwave allowed Smokescreen to go first through the portal, watching his quickly moving legs as they worked to get him out in the open. Dreadwing followed behind.

Once they were out in the open, Smokescreen scanned the area, making sure they were clear of humans and also taking in the beautiful land. All green fields that went on and on over small hills that faded beyond the naked eye. Blue sky, no clouds and afternoon sun. Smokescreen smiled and soaked up the feeling of the warm sun as it shined on his body, enjoying the warmth it gave along with the soothing brush of the breeze.

Dreadwing and Shockwave could feel his satisfaction, joy and comfort while watching him as he seemed to take a few minutes to enjoy himself. The two cons looked back at each other, going over their plans and talking about their autobot and what they wished to do with him.

Oblivious to any silent chatter, Smokescreen nearly skipped back to his bonded and asked if they were ready. "And where is it that we will be driving to?" the dark blue con asked deeply.

"I don't know," Smokescreen shrugged dumbly, "Wherever. It's a pretty big place. I'd just pick a direction and drive in it."

Before either con could protest how illogical that sounded, Smokescreen transformed and drove past them in a quick jump. They both stumbled before shaking their helms and transforming, quickly following after the speedy bot. At least he wasn't trying to get away.

Smokescreen wasn't even going his utterly fastest, just revving his engine and driving fast enough to feel the grass as it scrapped under his tires while the wind blew against his frame. Primus he missed the outside world and the ability to drive freely in it. He was just thankful that his bonded were allowing him the opportunity now.

Shockwave was about a hundred feet behind Smokescreen in his tank mode while Dreadwing flew up ahead. The autobot was very fast from what they were gathering, and seemed to love to spin his wheels in the dirt as he sped on. Dreadwing and Shockwave would like to think they've learned everything there is to know about the young bot, but they just kept ending up surprised.

Smokescreen just wanted the freedom though. He wanted to feel the outside world in a much less forceful manner. Being locked up in a deception warship filled with evilly plotting mechs was too scary and weight dragging boring. Smoke needed the thrill of the world as it welcomed him into its open arms.

After about fifteen minutes of driving, Smokescreen drove by a familiar railing and instantly remembered why it was triggering so many thoughts. This was where Dreadwing and Shockwave first found him after he was kicked off Team Prime.

Coming to a slow stop, Smokey transformed and gazed down at the old tracks. There was a surge of sadness that ran through him and he found himself frowning. There were so many things he wished he could change but simply couldn't. When he felt Dreadwing and Shockwave walking up behind him, he wondered how on earth he hadn't heard them transform. "Is it really bothering me that bad?"

"What is bothering you?" Dreadwing asked while coming to a stop beside the autobot, Shockwave on the other side.

Smokescreen could feel their concern and suspect and questioned how they could feel this way towards him at all. If they loved him then why did they hurt him so bad in the beginning? Was because he was just a toy they worried about being broken? Or do they actually care? It was a mixture of true or false questions Smokey thought about all the time.

"Why wouldn't they listen?" he whispered, helm lowering and arms drooping. He gazed at the rail road tracks like they could sympathize with his own problems and somehow magically make him feel better. "I thought they were my friends and yet when I tried to tell them what happened... they just wouldn't listen."

Dreadwing and Shockwave gazed at each other. They had been waiting for this moment since the day they took their autobot home. "We never got a chance to properly speak of this," Shockwave pointed out, taking a few steps forward and gently placing his servo on the bot's shoulder.

Smokescreen let out a sad sigh. Because you'd never understand. You'd never understand what it's like to go through such a thing, and then to be dumped by the only friends you knew and... loved. "No... It hurts to talk about."

Dreadwing joined him on the other side, "Communicating with those who are willing to listen will always help. Just know that we will not force anything out of you, Smokescreen."

That sent an untamed explosion of trust through Smokescreen's energon lines and warmed him up. He lifted his helm and looked at his bonded, optics heavy and sad. "When I first showed up, I knew the bots didn't trust me and it was pretty hard to understand why. I explained my story, what happened to me and how I escaped the first con ship. For a while I thought they believed me… maybe even liked me. Guess I was wrong."

"Strange," Dreadwing mumbled, "The autobots would never treat a new recruit as such. It is wise to be cautious and suspicious but never inconsiderate for an autobots cause."

Smokescreen let out a fake laugh, "I think they hated me. I mean, look at how much they love Bumblebee! I did everything for Optimus and yet he threw me out like I was scrap!"

Shockwave grew heavy with questions as well, "Why exactly did the autobots terminate you from their team?"

Smokescreen froze while thinking back over the encounter and all the bad things that happened after that. His bonded could feel his mixing emotions and wanted so badly to comfort and reassure him. But Smoke was in the pain of his brought on memories here. Nothing could help to fix it.

"After that day, the bots brought me back to base and I woke up. At first I thought they knew what happened to me so when I tried to tell doc he just blew up on me, saying I was lying and telling me to stop talking. Optimus even agreed that I was just trying to get attention and sent me away. Wheeljack was the only one who saw and was willing to help. After he told them what happened they believed me and... found out I was bonded." Smokescreen took in a deep intake and sighed it out; almost seeming unaware that he was telling this story to cons.

"I don't know why but they all started to get mad at me, blaming me and saying that I had plotted that stuff to happen. I guess the bond has location things in it and that it allows you to find out where I'm at so they musta' thought I was planning on you guys finding the autobot base or something… I tried to tell them the truth but they just wouldn't listen until finally they made their point clear and made me leave."

Rage and anger filled the cons chests as they stared into the open field like it would catch on fire underneath their bazaar gazes. "That is entirely illogical," Shockwave nearly growled, "Without major consent and close binding, we would never have been able to open up the location stage."

"It's still not open," Dreadwing addressed like it was nonsense, "How could they believe that you plotted something like that? We had never even spoken before."

"That's what I tried telling them," Smokescreen shrugged and went back to staring blankly at the field. "I ask myself why they did that all the time and all I can come up with is that the hate me."

"There is much that defiles logic," Shockwave explained, "After Megatron's victory day; I and Dreadwing had no use for you after we were proclaimed of the bond. Soundwave authorized that the autobots terminated you-

"Why did you come?" Smokescreen cut him off, turning to face them both. "It wasn't that long after they kicked me out. Why did you come for me if I'm so useless?"

Dreadwing lifted his servo and gestured to his spark chamber, "A proper bond does many things to a mech, Smokescreen. Albeit we could have managed to ignore you but your hurt and suffering was limitless and we couldn't bear to ignore you."

Smokescreen blew up, "It's your fault! I didn't ask for this slag to happen! I-I didn't want it to happen, ok!" He sobbed, spark sunken into all the hurt and misery his little body has contained.

The sting from the autobot's emotions dwelled on the two decepticons. "But it did happen, and we had no intention of any plotting. Megatron wanted us to hurt you and we obliged... We never wanted any of this to happen either."

"We understand," Shockwave claimed.

"And we care," Dreadwing looked at Smokescreen with sympathy.

Smokescreen tried scowling at them but it only twisted into a thick frown and a choked sob. He quickly turned around and sank to his knees, optics covered as they leaked with tears. He won't admit that he loved what they were saying, the fact that they actually seemed to care and that they didn't want any of this either. He refused to believe it was true simply to keep himself safe. But the compelling roar of right-or-wrong emotions were working him all up and confusing him.

Dreadwing knelt down behind the autobot and sent him all the comfort and trust he could. Smokescreen turned around and latched onto him, face pressing against his warm chassis as he continued to cry. Shocked some, Dreadwing looked down and frowned before wrapping his big, protective arms around the stricken bot and started shushing his cries.

Shockwave stood beside them, his single servo coming down to stroke the bot's helm and rest on his shoulder as he too worked to send off emotions. Damn, bonds were complicated with autobots; they were so innocent and easily hurt, always mindlessly sending off their overwhelming emotions. Smokescreen tried shaking away their feelings but regardless of whether he tried or not, he knew he wanted this.

Smokescreen wanted the attention, help, and affection. The reassurance that is said to recover every violated mech from the past could be easily given to him. He just needed to accept it.

And so he did.

Smokescreen slowly began accepting the emotions through the bond, allowing them to swirl through his spark and practically clog his insides with that calmness he enjoyed so much. He couldn't lodge this, and a part of him didn't want to. His clenching optics eased as so do did everything else including his pained insides. He relaxed and shifted on his knees to where he was setting more on his aft, legs half bent in front of him as he leaned his helm against the blue con.

Dreadwing and Shockwave looked at each other, speaking and conversing through the bond like the private spies they were. Dreadwing gently stroked the autobot's helm, rubbing his digits over the little stripes and side bars on his head and rumbling his engine.

"Smokescreen," Dreadwing spoke after a long moment of peace and silence, "There is something I and Shockwave have been meaning to recreate..."

Smokescreen could hear the resistance and unsure tones the blue con spoke and pulled away from his chassis to gaze up into his red optics. "What?" he asked, wondering what might be so difficult to recreate that they needed to discuss with him about.

The two cons looked back at each other, silently nodding before turning their helms back to Smokey. "Megatron's victory day," Dreadwing stated without a hint of hesitation or force.

Smokescreen's optics widened like he had just been told to kill one of his own friends. "What?" he nearly cracked, voice sounding so empty and hurt all the sudden, "Why?"

"We want to recreate our previous attentions on you," Shockwave explained, trying to sound the least bit forceful or demanding, "To discover what new changes have occurred from then to now."

Smokescreen was gapped mouthed, stuck between staring at Dreadwing or Shockwave like this was the saddest nonsense he had ever been forged to hear. Dreadwing lifted his servo and caught his attention though, trying to calm him, "However, we will not force you, Smokescreen. We merely wish to prove to you that we withhold no such desire to harm you ever again."

"By doing some sick science experiment?" Smokescreen asked offensively, scoffing slightly. He did not want to do anything close to reminding him of that one day or any of the mutiny threaded days that followed.

"It is not sick," Shockwave said, "It is a more sensible way of proving our care and trust."

Smokescreen nearly glared, "How is recreating the worst thing that ever happened to me supposed to prove any sort of 'care' or 'trust?'" He snapped.

"There will be difference," Dreadwing added in so that maybe he could help convince the bot to open up, "We are not at the canyon, the autobots are not present and we would not be violating you or showing any signs of force at all. We will only go forward with this if you imply consent."

Smokescreen paused to think about that big glut of information, expression softening slightly. He guessed it was all true if they did do it here. His friends weren't captured or being tortured, there was no lurking Megatron, no force and no violation. The ground he was provided with now was soft and colorful like the sky in which drifted with bright white clouds and a midday sun.

"A recreation is proof," Shockwave stated, "It will help to ease your spark and calm the commotion in which churns inside you."

Smokescreen looked at the purple con with a slight frown before dropping his helm and gazing at the swaying grass, basically giving a signal that he would do it. "If-if I let you do this... then will you stop if I... if I can't... take it?" he timidly asked.

"Yes," Dreadwing stated with firmness.

"Affirmative," Shockwave had said at the same time as his first bonded mech.

Smokescreen scanned their optics for any signs of lying or trying to trick, but all he saw was insecurity and gentle gleams. "Alright," he sighed, optics closing again, "Ok... I-I'll do it."

"Obliged," Shockwave shifted and moved around the autobot who watched him with mild distrust.

Dreadwing stood up as well, servo lifted outward to help guide the sweet bot to his own peds. Smokescreen blushed and grabbed his servo before carefully being hoisted to his peds. He remembered this moment when Dreadwing turned him around to face the purple con, standing between them both in fear, but... his servos were free this time.

Smokescreen took in another deep intake, trying to calm down but he couldn't resist the terror rushing through his energon lines. He tried not to think about that one sick day but it was like a haunting memory that always loved to hurt him by making bold reminders.

Dreadwing stood behind the autobot and reached for his servos like he did the first time, the only difference being that he held them differently. Smokescreen shook slightly, remembering restraint and shuttering his optics while thinking about being violated again. But as soon as he felt bigger fingers softly intersecting between his own, he lifted his helm slightly.

Dreadwing pulled the bot closer and rubbed a trail of burning lust down his arm while smoothly rubbing his thumb over the other servo he held. He kissed the back of Smokescreen's helm and rumbled his engine, sending off calm, arousing emotions.

Shockwave stood up, his cannon like a demon held heavily at his guard at all times. Smokescreen stared at it more than he did the purple con's optic. But soon Shockwave's real servo came up and stroked the side of his face making him whimper. Both the decepticons' had sharp claws but no maiming would happen today.

Dreadwing continued rubbing his free servo down the bot's arm to his lower back and soon to his aft. He stopped however when Smokescreen gasped and quickly opened his panel, not wanting to be kicked to the ground and blown up for not cooperating. This caused the decepticons to inwardly frown.

"Smokescreen, we informed this," Dreadwing whispered, tightening his hold on the bot's shaking servo, "We are not forcing anything upon you. Only allow access when you are ready."

Smokescreen calmed down slightly but did not shut his panel because of the powerful glitch thought of this being a trick. Dreadwing looked up at Shockwave and nodded before taking a step away from the autobot and kneeling down. Shockwave wrapped an arm around Smokescreen and pulled him closer to his chest.

Smokescreen looked up at the purple con and wondered what they were doing until suddenly he gasped and threw his helm back when something warm and wet began laving his valve. "Hawh," he sounded surprised and wrapped his arms around Shockwave's shoulders for support.

Dreadwing licked Smokescreen like he did the other night; slow and steady, teasing and exploring. He provided service that is so fraggin hard to get from a decepticon that even Primus would scream when someone overloaded from it. He sucked on his valve like it was the sweet energon he rarely consumed, savoring the taste and making satisfied hums in the back of his throat.

Smokescreen could feel his legs trembling, the pleasure being the luxurious virus that crawled through his pulsing energon lines and plaguing his processor. Through all the fear and distrust that raked him, it was difficult to feel anything better, but Dreadwing's glossa was the trick that would change that.

The dark blue decepticon's glossa went traveling inside the autobot's valve, moving around and exploring like it was voyaging. Smokescreen closed his optics and lolled his head back as pleasure rolled through him, turning him into a shaking mess. His lower tank heated up from the tingle of his valve being so ravished in attention, his legs grew numb with the waves as his port felt deeply driven.

Dreadwing moaned against him and sucked tightly on his anterior node, treating him like the straw in which was working its hardest to suck up all the liquid it could. He fingered his waist and rubbed his thighs, feeling the warmth and trembles they bared back.

"I-I c-can't-OH!" Smokescreen ducked his helm sharply when an explosion of heat caused his body to jerk. Shockwave had sent him a big jump of arousal and emotions.

Dreadwing angled his helm and pushed in, pulling the bot closer and starting his fast licking. Smokescreen moaned like he had never moaned before; the con succeeding in blowing his whistle. He shook his helm when he felt that talented glossa writhe inside him like a hungry animal wanting to eat him out all day. When a rather sensitive interior node was brushed, Smokescreen burst out and hollered, "RIGHT THERE!"

Dreadwing obliged without an ounce of resistance and continued to stroke the sensory node with the hasty animal that was his glossa. Smokescreen arched, pulled Shockwave closer and clenched his optics as an overload rippled through him. His port convulsed and erupted with burning pleasure that quickly coursed through every inch of his little body, processor blocked by the eruption of climax and now very dizzy. "AHH!"

Dreadwing smothered him one last time before pulling away with a mischievous smile. He watched with pride as eager lubricant leaked out of Smokey's port with sustained pleasure. He was quite pleased that he had gotten him to produce that much lubricant... Musta been a damn good overload.

After his processor fogged with the aftermath of overload ecstasy, Smokescreen went numb and lumpy, Shockwave havening to catch him and help guide him to his knees before he fell to them. When they were all on the ground, Shockwave reached for the bot's helm and lifted it.

Smokescreen's optics onlined with a flutter and he looked up at the blurry purple figure in front of him with a satisfied gleam. The feeling of digits rubbing his lower back and the snapping of two different interface panels opening made him tense. He froze when Dreadwing ran his servo down that patch of wires in which he had so painfully cut through the first time.

Dreadwing only rubbed the wires with fondness before returning his attention back to the bot's-already-soaked aft. Shockwave stroked the bot's chin in a calming manner before moving backward slightly, presenting his spike.

Smokescreen calmed down when he realized he wasn't going to be sliced open, but he still was weary, staring down at the purple spike and instantly knowing what Shockwave wanted. Just like the first time... just without force or pressure. "Whenever you are ready," he grew surprised when he heard the purple con say that, "I will not force you."

Smokescreen looked at him with shock before flinching and turning around to look at Dreadwing when he felt him prodding his port. This was the scary part. He worried about it. Dreadwing stared back and nodded, "Do you feel ready?"

Smokescreen paused, not expecting to be asked that, but ended up nodding anyway to see what he would do. Pleasure and tingles shot up his tank when a gentle digit began to push into him, his over sensitive port lighting up immediately. He gasped and turned back around, falling to his servos as he thought about how good it felt this time to how bad it had felt the first time.

Dreadwing continued to smirk as he moved in and out of the bot's tight port, treating it like the hole of all godly sins. Shockwave watched his partner work, getting extremely aroused by the sight and thoroughly restraining himself from just grabbing the bot and forcing his pretty mouth down the hilt. Smokescreen blinked a few times before he saw the twitching spike out of the corners of his optics and lifted his helm.

Obedience and anticipation could be felt between the bond and it made the cons wonder. Shockwave eased forward, his spike making contact with the bot's timid mouth and waiting. Smokescreen seemed to be testing them, searching for force or lies, but complied after a moment of finding nothing. He took the tip of Shockwave's spike into his mouth and got a flash of the beginning when the familiar taste and position struck him.

Shockwave wasn't standing up this time so that the bot wouldn't have to strain his neck to reach his spike, and he wasn't mercilessly thrusting into his mouth. He rubbed the back of his helm with assured gentleness and patiently waited.

Dreadwing watched while helping to stroke the bot's wings, softly penetrating and handling him with care. He carefully began adding the second digit, slowly moving when he felt the flex of his heated port.

The brought on pleasure and calmness helped Smokescreen to continue to take Shockwave into his mouth. He inched it in slowly, his reflexes working with him to take it as far as he could before it hit the back of his throat. Shockwave groaned when wet shots of pleasure commenced through his gun as that little mouth began pulling his trigger.

Smokescreen's optics shuttered and he moaned at the new feelings he was experiencing this time. He felt more encouraged and aware that he could do this, overpowered and thrown into that decepticon trick like haze. Dreadwing's digits now felt like aching bliss and Shockwave's spike tasted like heaven.

After he was done properly preparing, Dreadwing leaned forward on his knees and bent over Smokescreen, lips joining with his audios; the sight adding more pleasure for Shockwave. "How does Shockwave taste?" he whispered lustfully into his receptor.

Smokescreen closed his optics and moaned his answer. Dreadwing rocked his hips forward, sliding his spike between his legs on the underside of his valve making him whimper suddenly. "Let me taste..." he breathed.

Smokescreen let go of Shockwave's spike and offered space for the other con to move forward, but what happened was not what he expected. Instead of getting any for himself, Dreadwing grabbed Smokescreen's helm and turned it around to face him before locking their lips together, therefore sharing the intoxicating taste of Shockwave.

Dreadwing's glossa swept through his mouth like a wild animal, searching for every fragile spot that was pent up with exotic flavors. Smokescreen allowed the decepticon to practically hollow his cheeks clean as his glossa mapped everything it could, wetly sucking on his own and bumping the roof.

Transfluid leaked from Shockwave's spike like a crying water hose, desperately leaking from being turned off. He could feel that Dreadwing was teasing him and sent off an emotion of grudge. That's when the blue deception let go of Smokescreen with a more than pleased hum as if what he just tasted was worth critiquing at all.

Smokescreen leaned back down and vented out a sigh when he felt Dreadwing rocking his spike against his hungry valve. "You like that?" he heard him ask and weakly nodded.

Dreadwing moved back some and positioned himself in front of the autobot's prepared port, feeling the heat and delicate folds of his valve greet him happily. Then slowly he began to push in, inch by inch, ridge by ridge and light by light.

Smokescreen stiffened at the stretch but the slight sting that followed wasn't really worth making any complaints over. In fact, it felt real good. Dreadwing's massive spike stretching him open in such a slick motion felt absolutely blissful. "Mmm," he gasped at his size, "Yes!"

"Right there?" Dreadwing asked while rolling his hips downward, stimulating and feeling around for sensory nodes.

"Ahh, yes!" Smokescreen vented and sharply moaned when he felt their interface panels touch. Shockwave stroked his flushed cheek and rubbed circles over his chin, patiently waiting.

When Dreadwing pulled out and pushed back in, Smokescreen started sucking on Shockwave's spike with clumsiness. The pleasure that was running through his pumping energon lines made him feel enhanced. It made them all feel enhanced.

Dreadwing's spike was so fisted inside all that tight heat and welcoming clamps that it made his tank double up with tight pleasure. The constricting and contracting feeling so damn good. He pumped his hips forward, entering with steady penetration and moving around with a sharp stroke.

Shockwave felt like the straw now, his spike beginning to throb with such commanding pleasure that he had to literally keep from crushing the bot's helm. Smokescreen was more hipped up with pleasure making him more determined to suck harder. It felt good... felt right.

Smokescreen took it in at both angles, slurping on Shockwave's spike and moving along with the hips rocking against him from behind. His optics were half opened, watching the spike he was sucking on whilst his body shook with pleasure. He wasn't even thinking about the first time anymore; all he could think about was how good this all felt right now.

Dreadwing was to the point of nearly slamming his hips against Smokescreen's aft, rendering his tight port and clenching his sides. Shockwave was nearing the point of overload as well, his tank swirling with needing to explode pleasure.

Smokescreen felt his port blooming past the point of restricting and it began to spasm making him whimper and moan around the spike in his intake. The vibrations swarming all around his spike made him convulse and Shockwave leaned forward as transfluid shot out his straw. Overload hitting them like lighting.

Their pleasure brought Dreadwing to his own overload and he pushed forward into Smokescreen one last time, feeling the tight clamping of his valve and roaring with pleasure.

Smokescreen shook and trembled, optics closed and throat slightly sore. He swallowed some of Shockwave's transfluid and allowed some to leak out the corners of his mouth, feeling the spike retracting. From that point, his dizzy processor could barely process a single thing.

Dreadwing and Shockwave felt so contented and proud that they had made Smokescreen's overload so enjoyed in such a way. But they still weren't quite done with the entire recreation.

Dreadwing exited the bot's port and helped to turn him over to where he was setting in Shockwave's lap, leaning against his chest. Smokescreen allowed them to do whatever they wanted to with him, his body too receptive to care about properties and just willingly giving in. He looked up at Dreadwing when he moved between his and Shockwave's legs and kissed him.

The feeling of being hugged between two big decepticons no longer felt threatening at this point. Instead it felt safe and secure. Smokescreen was in serenity; fragged up. He allowed Dreadwing to stir his mouth before watching him pull away with a small whimper attached.

Dreadwing vented, "Did we satisfy you, Smokescreen? Did you enjoy what you felt?"

"Did we please you?" Shockwave asked.

Smokescreen turned to look at Shockwave for a long moment before turning back to Dreadwing and pausing. He didn't say anything, no smile and no frown, just a simple nod. He felt their content and amusement through the bond and jerked when Dreadwing suddenly washed him in a familiar blue glow.

The spark bond. "You want to recreate everything?" Smokescreen sadly asked, optics slanted upwardly in a hurt way, "But it hurt so much before..."

Dreadwing gently smiled at him and reached down to grab his servo. "We promise it won't hurt this time," he looked up at Shockwave and assured, "We won't let it."

Feeling their positivity and trust, Smokescreen could only hesitate for a moment before his spark chamber split open and he was now completely exposed. He felt Dreadwing move back between his legs, softly sliding his spike back inside him while concentrating on his movements.

Dreadwing grabbed Smokescreen's servo and held his shoulder with the other while bringing their chests together. When the sensitive material of their internal cores made contact, they both gave a slight hiss before suddenly moaning brokenly. Energy coursed through their bodies like quicksilver and another overload began working through their bodies, everything feeling like it was on fire.

Smokescreen whaled at the intrusion and gripped Dreadwing, pulling him closer like he couldn't get enough of him. The blue decepticon allowed it, now wrapping his arm securely around the bot and riding out the emotions that were tying them together.

Their sparks clattered as if they were dancing together before jumping into climax and rocking their bodies. Smokescreen cried in nothing but pure pleasure before the feelings could ever die and he felt Dreadwing disappearing from him. He whimpered and reached out for him to come back.

As much as Dreadwing wanted to stay connected, he had to let the autobot go and give him to his partner. Shockwave stroked the bot on the side of his hot face, gesturing for him to turn over on his lap, his chest plates already open. Smokescreen took the indication and could barely stand up without toppling over. He was thankful for Dreadwing who helped guide him down on Shockwave's lap. From there he gently sank down on the purple con's spike and rocked himself.

Shockwave rested his servo on the back of the autobot's helm and rocked his hips up as well, feeling the heat and seeping wet tightness of his port. Smokescreen vented like he was choked once before leaning in towards Shockwave, slowly pushing their sparks together. Everyone moaned at the explosion of adrenalin and esteem that filled up their fields and flooded them.

Smokescreen bounced on Shockwave's lap and loudly cried out in pleasure, tears brought to his optics because of all the emotion he was feeling. He pressed into him like he was a plush toy that needed its owner's arms to be tied around him. When he did feel that big purple arm and cannon wrap around him, he began to fall into a needed recharge.

Shockwave and Dreadwing panted, their chests rapidly beating in time with their autobot. They could barely function themselves, the charge from their frames trying to flail and take over their processors. They could feel Smokescreen's own charge trying to pull them in but they had to resist and calm down.

Dreadwing plopped down next to his partner and they wrapped their arms around each other. Smokescreen was curled up like a cat on both their laps, his legs pulled close and his venting steady. They stroked, caressed and petted him with delicacy while staring out at the field of green in front of them. The sun was smiling at them, staring through their red optics with a ray of love.

A recreation gone well.


	7. Chapter 7

Smokescreen walked through the dark hallways, helm down and optics dark as usual. It was late. He did not feel like going through it again. The whole day he's had to listen to enough of Knockout's pathetic pouting about losing Breakdown and needing a replacement frag. It sounded disgusting and stubborn, but even Smokey knew how depressed the medic was on the inside. Gosh, can't he just learn to properly talk about his problems instead of making it seem like he didn't have any? It made Smokey glare. He was done with listening to Knockout's rude comments about his finish and needing better pet owners. Sure. Maybe Dreadwing could buff up his finish after all the damage he did this morning.

That made Smokescreen shudder. He tried not to think about it, but he couldn't help but to feel agitated anyway. If his prediction is correct, then he would show up to their room, Dreadwing would drag him in, push him front against the wall and start mercilessly pounding him again- Just like this morning. Smokescreen thought that he might have seen something in Dreadwing, but after this morning, he wasn't feeling too confident.

Why is that whenever he tries to be a good bot, tries to do good things, he's always getting punished? He could hardly understand the autobots, but this morning? He hadn't done anything to piss Dreadwing off, and yet he got introduced to the dark side of the jet. Dreadwing had came marching in, all angry and gruff, looking him furiously in the optic. Smokescreen calmly tried asking what was wrong, but the con had yanked him up and pushed him against the wall, demanding he opened his panel. He didn't hesitate and let Dreadwing poorly prepare him before getting his rough satisfaction, leaving him empty. Then the decepticon left the room without so much as a word.

Smokescreen felt betrayed and resentful... But also a little bit hurt. He just didn't understand why he deserved the chaos he got constantly. And now he has to go back and experience it again. After getting an hour or so of peace, Knockout had came chirping in, saying that Dreadwing wanted him. Smokescreen was less than thrilled.

He turned down another hallway and sighed. Half ways there. Primus, he didn't want this. Smokescreen looked at a open window, seeing all the stars as they shimmered and shined in the night sky. Just as free as they could be. And yet he was stuck here; trapped like a animal or utensil cluttered in a drawer, only out when wanted. Smokescreen hated it, and he always debated jumping out the window again.

Knowing he still had plenty of time, Smokescreen walked over to the window, placed his servo on the wall and looked out. Hills and mountains blanketed by a thick layer of fog. Trees and rivers were not too far down. Maybe if Smokey jumped then he'd manage to drag himself into another hole and wait it out until help arrived or he offlined. Or maybe he wouldn't be hurt at all. He could get up and find a new home.

Smokescreen shuttered his optics and looked down at the purple floor. He wouldn't jump. He couldn't. There were too many reasons not to, and he listened to his tank on this one. Just as he was about to turn around and continue to his destination, a noise filtered the space making him freeze.

"Quiet you fool," a rough, demanding voice ordered.

"Yes Master," a seduced, smooth voice purred after.

Smokescreen turned around, his mind carnival stopping. Who was that? He listened to the faint noises coming from down the main hallway. Being so far away, he couldn't tell what was happening, but he did know that he wanted to find out.

Slowly creeping down the big hallway in front of him, Smokescreen listened closely for any approaching footsteps, but heard none. This was the hallway to Megatron's throne. Smokey had been there a couple times, only when Knockout wanted to embarrass him in front of Soundwave or Starscream. But there was nobody around. No vehicons, decepticons or insecticons were anywhere to be spotted.

Smokescreen was full blown pact with curiousity. He wandered down the hallway like a silent predacon, quickly but quietly. The sounds of pleasure and moaning filled the space making Smokescreen grimace. What the frag?

When he arrived at the end of the hall, he shifted close to the wall and peeked past it, scanning the large room. Since this was the control room, there were usually a ton of mechs around, but now there was no one here besides, "Megatron!" Starscream howled on his master's lap, claws pawing everywhere.

"Remember, Starscream, as long as I'm still alive, this is the only way you'll ever get to set on the throne," Megatron's growls of aggression rang through the thick interface fueled aroma.

Smokescreen watched with disbelief as Starscream sat back against Megatron's chest, legs parted, port rendered, and mouth seeking another's. Megatron moved his second in command at his own desirable pace, being the vacuum that sucks every scream the star could make.

Smokescreen turned around and plopped back against the wall, staring petrified at the floor before him. He did not mean to see that. It was disturbing and gross and now it was in his processor. Primus. He should not have come down here. Smokescreen shook his helm, about ready to walk away and forget what he just saw until more conversation caught his attention.

"You should count yourself lucky that I do not tell that blasted Dreadwing that you were the cause of his loyal brother's very extinction," Megatron hummed angrily at his little lap sitting seeker.

Starscream laughed a fake laugh and suggested, "And I wish for this secret to remain between us, Lord Megatron… just so more of these amazing moments can happen later on in the future."

Megatron couldn't agree more before completely ravishing the silver mech in his grasp into a pleasured puddle.

Smokescreen was now gaping. Even with the loud, obnoxious yells of pleasure and endless clanking of metal slapping together behind him, Smokey could only think about one thing... Starscream was the reason Skyquake was dead? How terrible! Smokescreen needed to tell Dreadwing right away.

Smokescreen began taking off down the hall, stepping quickly until one thought crossed his mind. ' _Wait, why do I care anyway? It's Dreadwing; one of the deceptiscum who keeps me locked up constantly and abuse me... But it's not always abuse. Maybe it would be better to tell him? That way it'll take his mind off whatever nightmarish plans he had for tonight.'_

Smokescreen looked ahead and noticed that he was just a couple steps from Dreadwing’s room. Frag. He let himself get overwhelmed too fast. Smokescreen forgot that it's times like this that are most enjoyable because then he didn't have decepticons all over him, telling him what to do. He could walk and feel safe somewhat in a way that resulted in freedom.

But now he just wasted that time.

The nervousness returned to Smokescreen’s spark and he tensed. Looking up at the door, he tried to feel Dreadwing’s emotions to see if maybe he had calmed down or not since this morning. Smokescreen was hesitant to enter. He didn't want to be slammed against the wall again. It hurt him both mentally and physically.

Gathering up his courage, Smokescreen decided to just get this over with. He typed in the code and watched as the door slid open, allowing him to walk through.

Immediately he saw Dreadwing setting on the edge of the berth, his legs crossed while he drank royally from a cube of energon. Smokescreen closed the door and looked down, trying to think of a way to approach the topic they needed to discuss. This mornings memories had him worried though, and he was glitching in the processor.

"Your rivalry counts for every second, Smokescreen," Dreadwing’s voice was deep and demanding, "Why has it taken you so long to get here?"

At least he wasn't barging at him with anger and self esteem. Smokescreen put on a chill facade and started slowly walking forward, shrugging. "J-just some vehicons back in the hall... Yeah, they were complaining about which one-uh- which one should jump out the window things and I... got distracted."

Smokey knew he sounded like a sore loser, but what else can he do?

Dreadwing hummed, looking at his energon while thinking about what the autobot said. "And what was this infuriation you felt about?" he asked in suspicion.

Smokescreen felt panicked and tried desperately to cover his emotions with a calming demeanor. "Cons kept saying that I was getting in the way and I just got a little... mad."

"So it would seem," Dreadwing mumbled to himself and took a drink from his cube.

Smokescreen almost whimpered at the sight of fuel and tried averting his gaze so it wouldn't bother him. He hadn't refueled since the other morning and anything Knockout had tried giving him today he just refused. Unsure of what to do, Smokescreen thought about what he had witnessed in the command center and how to tell Dreadwing. He wasn’t sure what telling him would do, and it troubled his nerves.

Plus the events of this morning had Smokescreen stiff and clenching as he waited. Shockwave wasn't around do to predacon cloning so Smokey was all Dreadwing had to take his anger out on. The reason why it wasn't as bad as it could have been this morning was because Smokescreen cooperated. He didn't want to be hurt. And right now his spark was hurting pretty dang badly.

"You are thirsting," Dreadwing stated more than asked and gazed at the autobot, lifting the cube out.

Smokescreen was shocked into minor bliss by the outwardness, but he wouldn't take the offer. He was too afraid of what it'd do. Besides, Smokey was very stubborn when it came to accepting things that were willingly given to him by decepticons. He was still an autobot. There were going to be errors to him.

"Quenching your thirst is the same as quenching mine," Dreadwing said, his voice a little deeper as he signaled the bot closer, "drink."

Smokescreen concealed his panic and internal pain by looking at the ground. He made nervous gestures with his mouth such as grinding his denta, biting his derma and frowning. His shoulders lifted and fell continuously and he was unaware that his bonded could sense all his commotion.

Dreadwing growled and reached out, grabbing Smokescreen by the waist and pulling him forward, sneaking him in between his thighs. Ignoring the squeak of fright his actions earned, Dreadwing then gripped the bot's jaw and pressed the edge of the cube to his mouth, slowly pouring the contents in.

Smokescreen’s optics had widened like a full moon and he braced himself on Dreadwing’s shoulders. He wanted to close his mouth and fight against the point, but when the taste of high grade energon filled his mouth with sweetness, he made a soft noise and drank with contentment. The feeling of such needed fuel traveled down his tank and warmed his inner networking.

There was a little more than half a cube left, and Dreadwing made sure not to pull away until his autobot drank every last drop. He observed Smokescreen’s optics as they rolled closed and he leaned in, making him smirk in approval.

When the fuel was all gone, Dreadwing pulled the cube away and set it aside. Smokescreen opened his optics and blushed, ducking his head down in embarrassment for having been fed like a sparkling. The biggest part of his discomfort was the thought of explaining why Dreadwing’s twin was gone. Smokey didn't know what telling him would do and he was anxious about it.

Dreadwing could feel the bot's emotions strongly through the bond and reached up to rub his cheek with his thumb. "Why do you fear?" he asked in a disapproving rumble, knowing that fear and agitation was what he felt most.

Smokescreen looked up and shifted more to one side, his mouth opening and closing. He didn't know what to say or he did know what to say but just didn't want to say it. He looked the decepticon in the optic and winced before looking down at his fiddling servos.

"I don't fear... that much anymore," he shrugged, trying seem like he was fine.

"Do not try and sway me, Smokescreen," Dreadwing’s voice was serious and demanding like a parent, "What is wrong?"

Smokescreen gulped. "I-I just... This morning you... You're still mad... Aren't you?" he slowly looked up.

Dreadwing’s face seemed to soften with realization and he paused. Thinking about this morning. "Forgive me," he suddenly said, sounding disappointed, "My actions this morning were not intended nor were they necessary."

Smokescreen’s spark jumped as the tension in his frame bled like open wounds. He couldn't help but to feel relieved and somewhat shocked that Dreadwing had apologized. It made him relax a little, more confident that he could survive through the night without getting another limp.

"Since I was not fair to you this morning, allow me to make it up," Dreadwing purred and wrapped his arms around Smokescreen’s waist, pulling him even closer and hugging him between his thighs. He tenderly stroked his cheek and jaw line, staring lustfully at his derma.

Smokescreen’s venting picked up as he allowed himself to be taken. He didn't feel like fighting his feelings anymore. The trust Dreadwing and Shockwave made him feel was too much. The location stage of their bond had opened not too long ago, so now their emotions were stronger than ever. And Smokescreen did not feel like fighting it anymore.

Submitting into his only source of comfort, Smokescreen softly moaned when Dreadwing connected their lips. It was always so gentle, so arousing and firm. The way those golden lips wrapped around his and passionately sucked, glossa slipping out and asking for permission. Smokescreen opened and moaned once again, feeling Dreadwing’s glossa taking over his mouth like he owned it.

Dreadwing growled in preference to Smokescreen’s joy and consent, dominating his mouth with just the right amount of force. He didn't want to scare him. He didn't want fear to have any part in this. Dreadwing felt a pair of servos move around his neck and smirked, moving his own servos up Smokescreen’s back to his door wings.

Smokescreen pulled away from the mesmerizing kiss and gasped, feeling those experienced digits fingering at all his sensitive spots. After some time getting to know him, Dreadwing and Shockwave had found out tons of things like what turned him on and where exactly to touch and how.

And right now that's exactly what Dreadwing was doing. It's digits moved across back and hip plates, digging in between gaps and pressing inside sensitive seams. It had Smokescreen arching, especially when those clawed digits squeezed at his wings.

Dreadwing purred at his autobot's pleasure but frowned at the small trace of nervousness he felt. Gradually stopping, he grabbed Smokescreen by the waist and turned him around, pulling him back against his tank and bending him forward.

The sudden movement and position freaked Smokey out at first, but he soon was gasping when he felt a small bite against his left wing. Oh Primus. He balanced himself on Dreadwing’s knees as a heavy glossa came out and ran along the edge of his wing. The lingering touch of such skilled wetness sent a chill up Smokescreen’s frame making him shudder.

"D-Dreadwing, I-nngh!" he bit his lip when the decepticon pressed his glossa into the joint on his wing, nicking gently.

Pressure built up in familiar places causing Smokescreen to groan, knowing this was wrong but just not caring. He wasn’t being forced against the wall or sliced into, so that was something. He started shaking a little as the pleasure building inside his body became quite bothersome with heat.

Dreadwing gave Smokescreen’s wing one last affectionate kiss before turning him back around for another real kiss. "Open for me," he whispered against those wet derma plates.

Smokescreen did hesitate, but only for a split second. He winced when he retracted the metal covering and felt his erect spike eagerly springing out against Dreadwing’s own interface panel. Blushing, he licked his lips and looked up at the decepticon, unsure of what to do. This was different than anything they've done before and Smokey didn't know what to expect.

Dreadwing smiled royally from his perch and snook his servo around Smokescreen’s back, moving down to his little clenching valve. It was always perfect, so warm and wet, presented rightfully to him. He growled and rubbed carefully at the soft, warm metal, giving it a reassuring caress that made the bot sigh.

Smokescreen closed his optics, waiting for the penatration to start. Dreadwing had big claws, claws that were not always that patient. He hummed in confusion when the con lifted his chin up and leaned forward, first digit slowly slipping in. Smokescreen tensed in apprehension but cried out in pleasure when Dreadwing bit down on his neck.

"Dreadwing that..." _fraggin hurt, but Primus, felt so good,_ "Uhh."

Dreadwing smirked and licked at the tiny wound he inflicted while his digit slipped completely inside the little bot. He began pushing in and out, holding Smokescreen by the back of the head while ravishing his neck. He didn't bite hard enough to puncture- just enough to make small little indentions as signature love marks.

It worked to distract the autobot as he moaned and shivered in his arms, holding tightly onto his shoulders. Dreadwing bit down on the other side of Smokescreen’s neck and added the second digit, licking and kissing, spike dripping. He thrust his hips against Smokescreens and caught his jump of surprise as pleasure from hitting his spike like that made him jolt.

Smokescreen felt overwhelmed with all kinds of different pleasures. The tingly pain in his neck, the wonderful sensation in his port and the stinging delight from his spike. It all pooled together inside his tank and made his helm dizzy with lust. He almost felt like falling backward and just letting Dreadwing frag him senseless.

When it came down to the third digit, Dreadwing slowed down and slowly dragged his lips across Smokescreen’s neck in admiration. Through the bond he sent emotions of trust, love and something so unique that it made Smokescreen feel like crying. He waited for the bot to relax before gently pushing the third digit in, lips planted in a crease on his neck.

Smokescreen grunted, concentrating on the comforting emotions Dreadwing was sending him as those digits stretched him open. It didn't hurt for some reason, which confused Smokey, but he didn't mind. If this was Dreadwing’s way of making an apology then he surely would accept it.

Dreadwing rocked his hips forward again and lifted his helm, giving Smokescreen a slow, languid kiss. His digits stretched out and scissored the bot with the fondest care. At one moment he curled his digits and it made Smokescreen push into him. So he did it again... And again... And again until...

"Mmf! Dreadwing, I-I can't... Ahh," Smokescreen shook his head.

Dreadwing smirked in victory and pulled his digits out, relishing the whine of loss it earned. He collected his circuits, opened his panel and scooted back on the berth, leaning against the headboard. "Come, Smokescreen," He mumbled seductively, waving one digit.

Smokescreen looked at Dreadwing’s position and really blushed, his cheeks blue with heat. He wasn’t seriously thinking about doing that, was he? Spike riding? But Smokescreen had never done that before! It was always said to be a femme thing...

But here Dreadwing was. Setting back with his legs laid poorly straight, his spike standing up proudly and his servos patting his thighs.

Yup, he was totally thinking about it. Smokescreen felt embarrassed and unsure. "How do you know that you do not like it if you have not tried it?" the decepticon won.

Smokescreen sighed in defeat and climbed on the berth, crawling closer to his bonded. His spark was racing, he could feel it as if it were about to jump out of his chassis.

When Smokescreen was above Dreadwing’s legs, he sat up straight and used the con's shoulders for support as he straddled his thighs. Before doing anything however, he looked up at those red optics like he was asking for permission to continue. Dreadwing gave him a simple nod and cradled his aft, encouraging him on.

Smokescreen took in a deep intake and started lowering himself down. "You do not need to hurry, Smokescreen," he paused on the tip and looked up, "I am with you."

Smokescreen’s spark began fluttering so quickly in his chest that he thought he might pass out. That almost sounded like something Optimus would say, but it was coming from Dreadwing. A decepticon.

Smokescreen made a small smile in return and nodded, carefully letting the tip of Dreadwing’s spike slide in. Then slowly he began to sink down further, filling himself up and venting in calmly. He stopped and lifted himself a little when the stretch became painful and then lowered himself back down again. Continuing the routine until completely seated.

Smokescreen, venting steadily, rested his head underneath Dreadwing’s chin against his neck, adjusting to the fill. This new angle had him feeling more of Dreadwing than he ever had before. It felt... Amazing.

"Very good, Smokescreen," Dreadwing rubbed his back soothingly and phrased him.

Smokescreen relaxed once again and slowly lifted himself, feeling his port constricting needily on the con's thick spike. Then he x-vented and swiftly moved back down, arching at the pleasure that racked his body. "Ah-huh!" Quickly moving back up again.

Dreadwing guided Smokescreen, holding him protectively as he began riding his spike, their tanks clanking together and rubbing smoothly. It made him groan, watching the mouth watering show of his young, attractive autobot moving up and down in his lap and making the most delicious noises.

"That's it, Smokescreen," Dreadwing’s voice was darkened with lust and pleasure, "That's it. You're doing so well."

Smokescreen was beginning to move too fast to care, his ventilations going crazy in attempt to cool him down. He angled his hips down and forward so that Dreadwing’s spike would continue to enrapture his sweet spot. Every hit would cause him to grunt in pleasure, the spirals of ecstasy shooting through his helm and making him dizzy.

"I-ahh... It feels-huh... Mmh!" Smokescreen moaned loudly as he dragged himself down on the lap beneath him, roughly penatrateing through his sweet spot.

"So good," Dreadwing whispered and groaned along with his autobot, completely drowning in his own pleasure.

Smokescreen was so hot and tight around Dreadwing. It was always and never enough. The autobot was just so Primus fraggin good. Dreadwing growled as that port enveloped him and squeezed tightly like a well learned interface trick or just a lucky strike.

Either way, they both ended up overloading at the same time, each one setting the other on edge. Smokescreen muffled a yell into Dreadwing’s neck and pressed into him while cumming all over their tanks. Pleasure spiked through him like a giant meteorite crash and had him all shaken up.

Dreadwing held Smokescreen close as he overloaded inside him, filling him up with his transfluid. He growled against his helm as the pleasure took over his senses and turned his insides into pleasant molten metal.

Then they stayed that way for a while, enjoying the rest of the blissfully high overload. Connected together, gently wrapped in each others arms and venting consistently. They were entangled in one anothers emotions, feeling and being silently felt without any touching.

Smokescreen never thought he could feel this way, and he hated himself for it. Letting himself get turned on at all by a decepticon was foul and despicable enough. But to actually trust and enjoy-overload- by one's own hand... It was truly a self loathing thought.

Smokescreen forgot all about his anguish as Dreadwing gestured for him to set up. He did as silently instructed and lifted himself completely off the con's spike, retracting his own and closing his port. Then he sat back down in Dreadwing’s lap, exhausted and worn out.

"Today has been quite tiresome," Dreadwing stated with a heavy sigh, stroking the bot's helm, "What do you say a few quiet nights of recharge will do?"

Smokescreen smiled at the idea of recharging with his bonded for a couple days. His emotions saying that he approved.

"Shockwave should return sometime during the night," Dreadwing informed, "I will speak privately with him in hopes that he allows you to rest."

Smokescreen couldn't believe this. Dreadwing was actually gonna try to talk with Shockwave about what happened this morning and see if he could persuade him out of any interfacing tonight? And he was going to let him sleep in for a few days? And he was asking him for approval?

Just as Dreadwing was about to get up, Smokescreen stopped him by placing a servo on his arm and looking down. "Dreadwing, there's something I... need to tell you," he mumbled at the end, uncertain of how to say this.

Dreadwing stopped and looked at his autobot, feeling discontent, uncertainty and sorrow. It was quite different from what he remembered feeling before. "What is it?" he asked, ready to blow up any slagger out there who dared make Smokescreen feel this way.

"On my way up here, I-uhh... I saw something in the command center..."

* * *

 

It was getting close to midnight. The synthetic energon Knockout had brought him was being currently tested. Shockwave noted that more time spent at his secret lab would be in order, but right now he had other things to deal with.

Ever since the tragedy of Breakdown's death happened... again... Megatron had not been too happy. Dreadwing was put under the gutters a lot. Starscream, Knockout and Megatron had really been giving him the thumbs down here lately. That's why Dreadwing was so mad.

And Shockwave was too busy to do anything about it. Predaking needed a lot of attention and so did all the experiments and clones. Megatron was on everyone's aft because of the victory he felt they were close to achieving. But tonight, the lord actually showed mercy and delayed certain protocols so now everyone was kind of taking a small break.

Shockwave had anticipated the unruly side of Dreadwing to surface upon Smokescreen sooner or later, but not at all like the torture they unleashed upon each other. Good thing Dreadwing had some capacity or else their little autobot might be broken beyond repair. Shockwave would frown if he had a mouth because even though Smokescreen didn't understand the true fortune he had, he still hurt.

Smokescreen was a delicacy. He's feisty, stubborn and pouty at times, but also a good listener and obeys when he knows it's right. No decepticon would ever think there was much to him at first glance- not even Dreadwing or Shockwave- but there really was a lot more to him. And they saw that.

When Shockwave arrived at the ship, he patted Predaking on the snout and told him to stick close to the command center. He would be back later with Smokescreen to introduce and refuel him. Can't have a loose autobot and predacon running around together or there'd be energon and mangled wires everywhere.

The large, metal, fire breathing dragon bowed its head and rumbled his affirmative. Shockwave dismissed him and watched as he stomped off- probably to go terrorize Starscream. Then he typed in the code for their room and waited for it to slide open.

As soon as he could see inside, Shockwave noticed that the lights were dimmed and there was a form setting on the berth. Fret and concern could easily be felt through the bond causing the scientist to wonder what must have happened. "Smokescreen," he said.

The autobot gasped and quickly stepped away from the berth like he had heard a long lost friend calling for him. "Shockwave," he began approaching the purple decepticon, his voice full of distress, "Did you see Dreadwing? I-I can't feel him anymore. He's not letting me in. Oh Primus, this is all my fault."

"Smokescreen, compose yourself," Shockwave's voice wasn't any different than the monotony it was always set at, and it irked the bot off, "What happened?"

Smokescreen stopped in front of the scientist, wanting to humor himself but not having the spark to. He was extremely worried right now, and no amount of sarcasm could fix that. "Dreadwing left mega-cycles ago. I-I can't tell where he went, he's like... blocking me," he said confusingly.

"Has the comprehension of his actions downed upon him?" Shockwave asked, his emotions unhappy.

Smokescreen looked even more ashamed, "N-no, he wasn't upset about that - well he was upset, but he made up for it, but when I told him about Starscream being the cause of Skyquake's death, he just... ran off."

That was some shocking information. Even Shockwave had trouble processing it. "The loss of Dreadwing’s twin is a highly undisclosed topic. How could you conceive such a classified predicament?" he bared down at the autobot, reading him with his optics and spark.

There was condemnation and sorrow leaking from his optics along with regret and worry. Smokescreen grimaced at the memory forming inside his processor. "On my way up here I saw... It was Starscream who- I heard him say that.... Megatron and Starscream were interfacing in the command center and I overhead them talking about Skyquake and Megatron said that he knew Starscream was the cause of his death."

Smokescreen felt his own spark twinge with despise. "I didn't wanna tell him," he admitted shamefully, head bowed, "I didn't know what'd it do, but I just couldn't keep it a secret."

Shockwave processed this. A long time ago when Skyquake had been terminated, Shockwave had felt it through the bond. It had hurt. It felt like missiles had been launched directly into his spark only to be clawed back out by massive, sharp predacon claws. And he could only calculate how bad Dreadwing must have felt being Skyquake's actual twin. It was what caused them to separate for so long. Dreadwing was on a rampage to find the fool who murdered his brother and ended up on this backwash planet with no satisfying answers. Figures it was Starscream who caused it... the mech just couldn't do things with his own stubby legs.

"It was best that he knew," Shockwave spoke in his deep rumble of a voice, "You were wise to have told him. The consequences are to be expected: Dreadwing will be mourning for a prolonged period of time and we may not see him as often."

Smokescreen turned around. Wise or unwise, it didn't help the subconscious ache in his tank. He walked toward the berth and sat down clumsily, feeling degraded as he stared at the ground, imagining the anguish and anger his bonded must feel. He debated on whether or not it is a good idea to tell Dreadwing about the sickening news, but his spark confirmed that it was the right thing to do. Then why was he so worried? Didn't he want this? Didn't he want Dreadwing to drown in his own misery for all he put him through?

"No..." Smokescreen whispered so softly that not even the walls could have heard him.

Shockwave had studied his bot, reading his emotions and feeling his emotional pain before walking over and setting down beside him on the berth. "Dreadwing will endure," he spoke in his usual loud and emotionless voice, "He has endured worse, more indisputable events with strict mind and deep rooted philosophy in the past. I am to determine that his attitude will suffice sooner or later."

"It doesn't change what I've done- my fraggin' glitched processor..." Smokescreen mumbled to himself, fists clenching faintly, "I wish I hadn't saw that- that I heard what happened... I never make the right choices."

"I would not anticipate you wanting Dreadwing to live on with such demise forever," Shockwave stated, basically exclaiming that he believed the bot's choice was efficient.

Smokescreen slumped further. He just wanted to be left alone right now like all the time. He just wanted to be free and not have to worry about anything anymore. The elite guard symbols on his body were still quite the same but just below the surface they were more different than just blue and red. Smokescreen was not proud. The loneliness leaves a hole that only the presence of his bonded could fill. And it frustrated him that he actually had to rely on someone (two decepticons to be more dreadfully precise) to keep him compliant.

"I hope you haven't been having a bad day..." Smokescreen lifted and dropped his shoulders like he expected a negative result.

"Not entirely," Shockwave's answer could not have been more relieving. The purple mech watched as Smokescreen closed his optics and moved his lips like he was thanking Primus. "The predacon clones are an advancing success-methodically speaking. Sometime I would like you to meet Predaking."

"Predaking? Is this that back stabbing, slobbery beast Starscream keeps complaining about?" Smokescreen leaned back some, his appearance somewhat relaxing but irritated. He hated Starscream; that glitch was always so arrogant and annoying... and horny.

"Correct," Shockwave's voice had a hint of irritation in it as well, and the dissatisfaction cooked through his body, "Though his comments lack most appropriate intelligence when it comes to Predaking."

"Doesn't he lack intelligence all the time?" Smokescreen snickered.

"Indeed," Shockwave agreed.

A silence began to happen and Smokescreen wondered if Shockwave was talking to Dreadwing through the bond. They had been good at keeping their conversations hidden from him which made him both annoyed and suspicious. What could they possibly be talking about that they couldn't share with Smokescreen? They had been together for forever now. Why didn't they trust him?

But all the sudden, Smokescreen felt a rush of both wrath and worry wash over his senses and he blinked. It wasn't coming from him so that meant... Looking up with barely enough time to gasp, Smokescreen made a strangled noise and fell to the ground.

Pain worse than Unicron himself could inflict flooded his sensors and made his circuits feel all but raw and battered. Smokescreen sobbed, unable to speak proper words as it felt like his spark was being ripped out and physically crushed. He couldn't focus, his optics blurred and he moved around on the ground like a person who had lost their glasses. In a desperate panic.

"Sh-Shock... wave," Smokescreen coughed and heaved, his spark wrenching in his chest.

He saw and felt the purple decepticon uncontrollably kneel to his knees in front of him, albeit making less noise and cringing. The emotions pounding through their sparks was cruel and devastating. Smokescreen could hardly process anything. The bot internally screamed and tried moving closer to his mate, wanting to ask what was going on but not being able to.

It felt like being in a electric chair without the wet sponge; all that raw, furious electricity wildly tearing it's way through them, catching everything sensitive on fire and destroying all that mattered. They're bodies might have been too still to think they were even online, but their noises and overheated bodies suggests otherwise.

Smokescreen cried out, "What's happening?!"

It was all he could manage to say before collapsing back into the floor, muffling his agony into the rough metal ground.

"Dreadwing’s spark has just been extinguished," Shockwave confirmed loudly, holding back a grunt as he moved forward and grabbed the little bot.

Smokescreen sputtered a unfriendly, "W-what?!"

Shockwave forced Smokescreen over onto his backside and quickly leaned over him. "Open... your spark chamber," he said, his voice trying to die out, "Now."

"Why?" Smokescreen couldn't hold back as he opened the protective cover. He was dying here. Anything Shockwave did couldn't be that bad could it? Besides, what worse than this terrific pain that was now staying constant in his body?

Smokescreen went back to clenching his optics shut and groaning in misery, writhing around and tossing his head back and forth. There were movements he wasn't even aware he was making because the pain was so fierce and heavy. The impact of it felt like a wrecking ball.

Shockwave forced open his own spark chamber and grabbed Smokescreen’s arm, yanking him up. It took effort and proficiency, but he was able to hold them both up while bringing their pulsing sparks together. Their lights were about to flicker out and Shockwave struggled not to let that happen. He ignored the bot's cries and blabbery complaints as he finally brought their cores together.

Smokescreen jerked at the new amount of energy that filled his chassis and cried out in pain. Static and electricity fought like cats and dogs inside him and he begged for it to all just stop. His body could not take it. It hurt too much.

Smokescreen threw his arms around Shockwave and coughed again, feeling the way their sparks burned together. New emotions were starting to happen. Things that weren't just pain and anguish could be felt. The energy, he remembered, was beginning to tackle away all the pain. Smokescreen clutched at the decepticon for dear life, hoping this atrocity would be over soon.

Shockwave held the bot close in his lap, his arms like vices around his shoulders. Quickly, he poured all his networking and emotion through the bond, flushing the dying remains of Dreadwing out like they had once done with Skyquake. He processed and grunted, trying to get rid of the agonizing body manners.

Smokescreen's optics flickered back online and he found that he could vent straight again. Desperately sucking air through his intake, he gasped and sobbed, feeling the pain suddenly vamoose like smoke. Realizing where he was and what just happened, Smokescreen clenched his optics shut again and gripped Shockwave so hard that it nearly left dents, pressing he face to the mech's neck.

"Dreadwing is now one with the allspark," Shockwave might have whispered, his spark simply letting out a depressing throb every now and then. His life long mate has now been terminated...

Smokescreen tore himself away but instantly regretted it as the rush of coldness and unbearable emotions tackled him. He gasped and pushed their sparks back together, immediately taken back over by the warmth and comfort. "Why did it hurt so much?" he whispered through the bond.

Shockwave noted this. "When you are bonded to another mech, it is a consequence you may soon face," he explained, speaking through the bond as well, "The connection we all shared was destroyed when Dreadwing’s spark gave out, and thus the force attempted to drag us in with him."

"This is all my fault," Smokescreen said out loud, his optics horrified, "I did this!"

"Dreadwing made a choice, Smokescreen," Shockwave replied in his no nonsense tone, ready to disconnect, "Logically it is not your fault... Now stand."

"I can't," Smokescreen really didn't want to pull away, it would sting too much.

"You must," Shockwave forced him back and shut their chambers, sending as much positive energy to the autobot as he could. "Dreadwing is still out there."

"Yeah, but he's offline," Smokescreen made a fake laugh, clearly unsettled by the whole thing. He just wanted to lay down and disappear, nothing around and no one near. Safe and unharmed.

"We need to find out exactly what happened," Shockwave stood up, followed by the autobot, "This could have been... self inflicted."

"Dreadwing wouldn't kill himself," Smokescreen said, his voice trying not to panic in sickness. Right?

Shockwave regained his controls in a still motion, processors rebooting and spark coursing with energy. "It is a possibility," he spoke as if he didn't want to, "Though a low possibility that is."

Smokescreen grabbed the edge of the berth and hoisted himself up, his legs wanting to give out. Like Shockwave, he had to reset his networking and bring back to life what shut down. It almost didn't cross his mind that they were both on the edge of permanently offlining. So whatever Shockwave did... It saved them.

"Follow me," Shockwave started walking to the door.

Smokescreen scoffed, "To where? What does it matter?"

Shockwave stopped, "Dreadwing."

* * *

 

  
Shockwave had talked with Knockout, but the red medic sarcastically remarked that there was nothing he could do. Like Breakdown, Dreadwing’s body would be trashed and dumped in the pits. Primus rest their sparks.

"Well it happens at some point or another," Knockout wiped his shoulder clean when Smokescreen walked past him, a sarcastic smirk crossing his face, "At least I have less to worry about rather than trippy over here."

Smokescreen briefly glared at Knockout before bowing his head and sighing. He couldn't bring himself to talk right now. The sight of Dreadwing colorless and offline before him made his tank churn. The big blue mech had a large hole in his chest and it barely made way through his inner casing. But it was enough to permanently disrupt his spark.

"Knockout, leave us," Shockwave commanded.

The doctor uncrossed his arms and rolled his optics, his servo waving in the air as he left, "Oh alright. But do clean up after your pet autobot. I don't wanna have to buff the floor clean because you two writhed around so much."

When Knockout left, it was like a blessing. Smokescreen sprinted across the room and stopped beside Dreadwing’s side. The smells of burnt energon and ruined circuits filled his nasal sensors making him wanna puke. This-this was terrible.

"He's offline... He's really offline," Smokescreen nodded to himself, his voice low and emotionless. He looked up as Shockwave approached and tried to keep his face straight as his voice cracked out, "But he'd still be here if it wasn't because of me."

"Smokescreen," Shockwave watched as the autobot turned away and rested his servos on the table beside Dreadwing’s head.

Smokescreen stared at his peds, unable to fully look at Dreadwing without breaking. He hated himself so much right now and he didn't know why.

Maybe it was because he truly cared about Dreadwing. Maybe he really didn't know what he had or didn't expect what happened to feel this way. Maybe he wanted to fall to his knees and tell Primus that he wanted to take it back, that he didn't want this, that he was wrong and young and stupid. And maybe it was because he couldn't do that that it hurt so much. He tried to tell himself that he hated Dreadwing and Shockwave all this time but...

"I'm sorry," he whispered, optics wanting to tear, his throat feeling heavy and thick.

Shockwave's voice became gentle, "An apology is not necessary in this case."

Smokescreen continued to look down, "I'm such a stupid, worthless bot. If I had just known that... he would have tried to kill Starscream then I wouldn't have told him."

"Dreadwing brought his fate upon himself," Shockwave stated.

Smokescreen's face grew angry and he whipped around to face the purple decepticon, "Why did you guys do it? Why did you ever want me to join your bond? You knew I was just a pathetic, dumb bot and yet you chose to accept me in!"

"You're temper as gone out of check," Shockwave informed, knowing that Smokescreen felt guilty.

Smokescreen nearly shouted, "I don't care! None of this would have happened if you guys hadn't have picked me up!"

"Are you implying that you would rather Dreadwing be online right now?" Shockwave asked.

"Yes!" The moment it left his mouth it felt and tasted like the most disgusting thing. Smokescreen even shook, his optics past the breaking point. He didn't know if he meant what he said or not, but if he did then....

Shockwave went silent, looking at Smokescreen who finally gave in. The bot's optics teared and he turned away in anger, grabbing the table and kneeling to the floor, hiding himself.

"You should have just killed me," Smokescreen whispered over the bond.

And Dreadwing’s body was dumped that very next morning.


	8. Chapter 8

Over the long, unwelcoming period of time he had been on the nemesis, Smokescreen had learned a lot about spark bonds. Now being in one that was one hundred percent complete, he could feel and talk and navigate like a professional. The energy made him masterly skillful when it came to blocking out Shockwave or secretly speaking to him through the bond. Of course he wouldn't openly admit that it was Shockwave who really helped explain all this stuff to him in the first place... he just liked to show off.

Since Dreadwing had past away a little over a month ago, Smokescreen had been utterly bored. Shockwave was gone constantly, always on immediate alert, kissing warlord aft when he had to. It irritated Smokescreen who only wanted company and a little fun. And he almost got into a fight with Starscream once because the seeker grimaced at him while walking down the hall, saying how he shouldn't have the privilege to roam freely. Thank Primus, Predaking was there to run the seeker off like a wolf amongst sheep.

The most Smokescreen was allowed to do was drive around the hallways and stretch his muscles during short courses of interface. Shockwave said it was illogical and bothersome: the way the autobot always tried to persuade him through the bond. But he could understand that all Smokey wanted was some company and love. Shockwave could at least grant him that.

And that's just what he was doing.

Smokescreen was all but a burning ball of bliss wound up and undone before the scientist who stood before him, fingering his port. They were in one of Shockwave's private labs, doing it on one of his only clean tables. Smokescreen sat back on it, his legs spread at the edge and his back comfortably bent as he steadied his intakes, watching the show.

Shockwave stood directly in front of him, close, his giant cannon wrapped around his side and gently vibrating. The secure, possessive hold made Smokescreen feel admiration and trust, the feelings making his pleasure sky rocket.

Two dark grey digits moved in and out of his port, scissoring and spreading him wide. Smokescreen groaned, his head tilting back, cheeks tinted a faint blue and hips thrusting. "Awhh... Come on, Shocky, I'm as ready as any bot can be!" he worthlessly exclaimed.

Shockwave's digits didn't retract yet. They still stayed stuffed in his squirming autobot, shoving in and out and curling. He pressed his clawed finger tips into sensory nodes and pulled, causing Smokescreen to either gasp or absently thrust his hips like he had no self control. The sound of his fans was a turbine, loud and uncontrollable.

"You're impatient," Shockwave said in his deep, lust hinted voice, "And in time you have proven that this particular error cannot be rearranged."

Smokescreen sarcastically scoffed and tried rolling his hips down, wanting to regain the pleasurable feels. "Well the fact that you can't just move on to the next part is pretty unfair. It's not like I'm gonna break or anything... Mmm!"

"Its always a possibility," Shockwave thrust in with more force, allowing the eager autobot to push into his palm, "You are merely excited for my weapon. That is a recommendation I should have enabled a long time ago before Dreadwing decided it logical to use on you."

"Aww, come on," Smokescreen smiled, head lazily hanging forward, condensation building up on his frame, "Just admit it, Shock, you love it just as much as I do...."

Shockwave moved even closer to the autobot, nearly hovering over him, using his own hips to keep his quivering thighs spread. "My weapon has its own benefits, but none nearly used in such an ineffectual way," he shoved his digits into Smokescreen as far as they would go.

It made the autobot arch and cry out in ecstasy, his sensitive sweet spot being so tenderly ravished by the fingers. His body was beginning to throb, arms struggling to hold him up, thigh joints aching as they worked to stay spread, and his port sending drifts of tingly senses everywhere inside him. It was useless to try and shake away. The pleasure had a command of its own.

"Well- huh- if you're not gonna move on then let me overload already," Smokescreen said, his voice a needy pant as his head tilted back. Deep, passionate groans came out as those digits stroked his sweet spot and dived into sensors.

Shockwave would roll his optic if he had the ability. Instead he just repeated his same rumble, "You are impatient."

Smokescreen gave the purple decepticon a broken, mischievous stare and smirked. "Yeah..." He murmured, leaning up to wrap his arms around Shockwave's shoulders, whispering, "For your spike."

Ok. Primus dammit. Shockwave could not wait any longer himself. Smokey was a sneaky little thing, always getting him riled and excited. He was almost just like Dreadwing, using his emotions to his advantage and twisting him up inside. Previously it had been their way of manipulating Smokescreen. Now it was the other way around.

Shockwave caressed the autobot one more time before pulling his digits out. He dismissed Smokescreen’s whine and moved his cannon around in front of him, tilting it at an angle and pressing it between the bot's legs. The gun was already warm, softly rumbling with electricity. All Shockwave would have to do is charge it up.

Smokescreen closed his optics and bit his lip, feeling as Shockwave slid the edge of the cannon between the overcharged and very sensitive gap between his valve lips. It was hot. Sending a large wave of pleasure rolling through him. And when it turned on, Smokescreen felt even more so.

"Ahh!" he gasped and tried closing his thighs around the intrusion. He worked to keep back desperate groans by biting his servo, the vibrations of the gun making his body tremble. "Aww, Primus frag!" he swore.

"Keep your thighs spread or you will not receive any release," Shockwave warned, helping to push the quivering thighs away. He pressed his cannon even more into the bot's quaking mesh, turning up the charge. It shook on his arm, and he opened his own interface panel, letting his erect spike pop out.

Smokescreen’s processor practically died, overcome by the waves of sensual pleasure washing over him. He moaned and bucked his hips, thighs aching and throbbing, arms jerking and tightening, valve lax and trembling. The vibrations grew. It must have been at least ten volts or more. It shook his entire body. The intense heat against his valve was so hot it almost burned, but it felt good.

A giant pool of heat grew in Smokescreen’s tank, right in the middle of his abdomen, his spike twitching with raw abandon. The bot's optics shut tightly, his mouth parted in a small cry as the cannon moved up and down between his legs. Pleasure zipped through his overcharged body, lighting up sensory factors and igniting carnal networking.

"Sh-Shockwave," Smokescreen groaned, only able to hold onto the con with one loose arm while the other held him up, "So close... Huh! Faster!"

"Patience," Shockwave pressed his own spike against the gun, enjoying the rumbling motor of his cannon. The sight of the bot squirming, crying, bucking and moaning added more fuel to the fire in his body, making him eager to strip Smokescreen to the core, bend him over and frag him until they both offlined.

"C-can't, I-I, oh my Primus!" Smokescreen arched upwardly and gasped, servos moving everywhere in a crazy attempt to steady himself, "Right there, Shockwave! Right. There!"

Shockwave pushed his gun harder against the autobot, the volts now as high as he could get them without damaging or even melting Smokescreen. Purple sparks flickered off the cannon, falling to the ground and sizzling against Smokescreen’s valve. Shockwave slowly slid it against the clenching valve, scorching hot and throbbing. His spike spurt transfluid, but not enough to overload.

Smokescreen whimpered and moaned, holding onto Shockwave's arm and the cannon, trying to ride it against his valve. "Just a little more," the vibrations made his speech slurry, "Right... there, uhh!"

Smokescreen arched again, biting his lip as the feelings in his valve escalated, and twisted emotions jerked through his entire frame. The heat in his abdomen flared causing him to bounce and arch again, the world flashing in different colors like fireworks. So close to the top. He waited... And waited. So close. He was just about to tip over when...

Shockwave pulled the cannon away.

"H-hey!" Smokescreen protested sharply and looked at him, body as stiff as a brick and optics bright with charge, "What the slag?!"

"You are terribly impatient," Shockwave repeated for what must have been the hundredth time. Smoke or steam rose from his cannon and he adjusted something on it to help cool it down.

Smokescreen scoffed at him, "And your terribly mean, now give it back! I was so close!" He squirmed, reaching for the cannon and thrusting his hips.

Shockwave grabbed him beforehand and pushed him more onto the table. "Perhaps this will help," he said, a barely detectable hint of seduction in his deep voice, hips pressing forward.

Smokescreen was thrown off balance, hitting the wall as Shockwave's wonderfully thick and rigid spike began to fill him. It hurt for only a split second, but his over sensitive valve welcomed it with intense desperation, fluttering and gutting him with pleasure. Smokescreen leaned back and moaned loudly when their hips joined.

"Yes," he mindlessly agreed, too out of air to properly speak, "Yes, yes, yes!"

Shockwave took that as the go ahead. He pulled out a little ways and then slammed his hips back forward. His spike was extremely hot from being pressed against his cannon and so was Smokescreen’s valve. It was so tight and warm, clenching around him hungrily like no fist ever could. He groaned faintly, hips yanking back once more.

"Shockwave, I-I think I'm gonna... gonna - OH!" Smokescreen shouted as a sudden, powerful overload cut through him when Shockwave slammed back in. He jerked and arched violently, optics flaring and hips bucking. Transfluid shot out his spike so viscously that it nearly splattered in their faces, but ended up landing on their tanks. His valve spasmed and ached with such pleasure that it made him sob in both joy and misery.

Smokescreen moaned, condensation dripping from his frame, cheeks heated and flaring blue. He jerked a few more times before slumping back, his chest rising and falling with every effortless vent to cool down his body. He panted, optics shuttering. "Oh Shock," he panted, servos repeatedly clenching around everything in their grasp whether it be the table, his thighs, Shockwave or nothing.

"You are highly sensitive do to major stimulation," Shockwave slowed down for a moment, letting the autobot settle his intakes and listening to the little sweet whisperings of his name, "As am I."

Smokescreen lazily smiled, his valve clenching down on Shockwave as the pleasure comfortably maneuvered through him. "Told ya you'd like it," he would have sounded smug if not so pleased and helpless with charge and sensitivity.

"It is enjoyable I will admit," Shockwave thrust his hips back into the bot, watching as he jerked and clenched his bright blue optics closed in a moment of pleasure, "But still unbefitting."

"You're so judgmental," Smokescreen sat up and wrapped weak servos around the decepticon’s shoulders, his tank heating back up quickly after a few wondrous thrusts, "Mmm, you need to just cool down and enjoy it."

"In this situation, I can only heat up," Shockwave said.

Smokescreen snorted. He was use to Shockwave being a smart mouthed genius, but that didn't stop him from being downright oblivious to jokes or rhetorical statements. But Smokey didn't mind.

"Same here," Smokescreen moaned as his valve began to clench in vain, trying to gain back the powerful thrusts.

Shockwave's spike was sensitive as well, the tactile remains of his cannon leaving such a thrill inside him. He used his servo to lift one of Smokescreen’s legs up over his waist while pushing the other to the side. He yanked him even closer so that he could thrust fully, the whole length and width of his spike plunging into the glorious heat in which was his autobot’s hot, soaked port.

Smokescreen gasped and moaned at the new angle, feeling more of Shockwave and the sensation he so craved. "That's, mmm..." he couldn't speak correctly. Heck, he didn't even know what words were meant for at this point.

Shockwave pumped his hips more erratically, giving Smokescreen’s spike a few soothing strokes while keeping the pace almost neutral. Fast but not too fast. He bent his knees slightly, knowing the bot's sensibility, and sharply thrust his hips upward.

"Gah!" Smokescreen cried out and clutched onto Shockwave, making a movement that would seem like he had just been punched in the tank. More heat than possible spread through his sensitive frame, setting off the bomb.

Shockwave did it again, causing Smokescreen to yelp and arch. He roughly penatrated the sweet cluster of sensory nodes inside of the autobot, right underneath his carrying chamber. Whilst his servo moved down and he thumbed the pulsing bright anterior node, Shockwave leaned over Smokescreen and banged into him hard.

Smokescreen threw his head back and shouted, "Ahh! Shockwave!"

The purple mech pressed Smokescreen’s node between his digits before squeezing and pinching. The autobot trembled, gasped and moaned, static and electricity running through his frame intoxicatingly. He jerked and gripped at his shoulders, thrusting his own hips up and down to rise the friction.

"Nnngh! Smokescreen, be still," Shockwave warned, trying to multi-task. Thrusting his hips, rubbing the bot's sensitive node, holding his back straight and milking his spike. It was an illusion of beautifully arranged work, but very messy when someone wouldn't cooperate.

Smokescreen still struggled though, blabbering, "I-I can't be still when you- ahh - when you're doing tha-at!"

Shockwave upturned his hips and drug the tip of his spike against the cluster inside Smokescreen, tangling the sensory wire and pulling. It earned a passionate cry and a tug closer from the autobot. And Shockwave could feel it too, the mangled wiring, the fervent heat and the pulsing mesh all rubbing against the feverish metal flesh of his spike.

"Frag," Shockwave said through the bond and hoisted Smokescreen up into his chassis, slamming into him one more harsh time.

Smokescreen cried out vigorously and Shockwave grunted, spike digging into the bot's chamber and spurting. Pleasure, electricity and overload ripped through their frames so violently that Shockwave had to fall back against the table, holding the shaking autobot up in his lap. Their hips stayed sealed together, thighs and waists a hot, sticky mess.

Smokescreen’s digits dug into Shockwave's back as he hugged him, pressing his face into his chassis and sobbing. The heat made him feel intimidated and exhausted with pleasure, Shockwave's fluids giving him a returned sense of comfort. He laughed softly and nuzzled the mech's bosom, "Hehe... you said 'frag.'"

Shockwave did growl, giving the autobot’s doors a sharp nick with his claws. It earned him a startled gasp. "Do you wish for me to use my cannon ever again?" he had a warning in his voice, and sterness, but Smokescreen could feel the tease through the bond.

"Course'," he said enthusiastically through all the heavy venting and roaring of cooling fans. "It's too good to pass up."

Shockwave let a simple silence wash over them as he began to relax and cool down. His worked up, overheated frame sizzled and burned with over stimulation. He tried calculating how much stronger the autobot’s own charge was and estimated his wave frequencies. It was a lot to take in.

"We must wash before I am to send you to Knockout for the remainder of the day," Shockwave said, his voice back to unreadable monotone. He rubbed the bot's wings softly, thinking about the business he needed to attend.

Smokescreen grumbled against the decepticon’s chest, still holding on, not wanting to separate. "I don't wanna," he pouted, pressing himself deeper into the con's comfortable frame.

Shockwave internally scolded himself and the autobot. Since Smokescreen had made himself rather comfortable over the last few months, he had certainly been much more bold and demanding. It wasn't that it was bad- it was actually good in a way- but still disappointing in other ways.

"You must," Shockwave forced himself to say, "Be grateful. Megatron allowed me this break do to impressive cause. I cannot fail him now."

Smokescreen might have whined a little bit, frowning against the purple chassis. Shockwave always had to do things right on the spot for Megatron. It was truly aggravating. "Ok," Smokescreen mumbled, leaning his head back and shyly asking, "When.... When will you be back?"

"Undetermined," Shockwave answered, his tone low, "Lord Megatron believes he is approaching a major victory. With expertise, he may be able to achieve."

Smokescreen let out a few helpless emotions. He hated it when Shockwave talked about aiding Megatron in defeating the autobots and winning the war. For a while, he had tried convincing his bonded that being an autobot was so much better and way cooler than being a decepticon. I mean come on! Autobots don't get betrayed or killed when they screwed up or got hurt by the other side.

Face slap.

Dreadwing had pointed out that that was exactly what the autobots including the great Optimus Prime did to him. It had hurt Smokescreen to agree. Dreadwing and Shockwave were in too deep to ever change, and Smokescreen wouldn't because... he still was an autobot and he probably always would be. Dreadwing nor Shockwave ever tried to change him. They always seemed to give him a choice.

Smokescreen pulled away from Shockwave and felt as he placed his servo underneath his aft to help him sit up. Slowly, with a wet sound, he popped off the spike and rubbed his tired legs. "Can I go for a drive before I have to face Knockout again?" he asked.

"Yes," Shockwave answered and stood up, making sure the autobot did not fall over in weakness, "Wash first."

"Sure thing," Smokescreen dismissed any negative emotions he felt and headed for the wash racks. His interface panels were still open and showing but he didn't care. He was in Shockwave's personal lab. Why should he care about anything?

Shockwave watched him go until he disappeared into the protective walls of the wash racks. When he heard the water turn on, he turned around and channeled Soundwave. "Is the prisoner ready?" he asked.

Soundwave used a recording of Megatron's voice, "Yes."

"Bring him to the lab in fifteen cycles," Shockwave demanded.

"Will do," Soundwave said through Knockout's voice, then switched to Starscream, "Would there be anything else that you should require?"

"No. You are dismissed," Shockwave ended the channel and began to wash up himself.

It took around ten minutes before Smokescreen came fluttering back out, washed up and dried off to near perfection. And the first thing he did was run to the door, as if eager to escape, pressing the button and typing in the code.

"Smokescreen," Shockwave said before the young mech had time to bolt out the door.

Smokescreen, sighing irritably, turned his helm back and gave a pouty faced glare to his parent like bond mate. "Yes, Shockwave?" he grumbled, drawing the words out like he thought he would be lectured.

Shockwave took a few steps closer to the impatient mech and said sternly, "Only in the West end. If Megatron is to see you-"

"Yes, yeah, if Megatron sees me then he'll beat the scrap out of me," Smokescreen rolled his optics and waved Shockwave off, "Stay in the West end; Primus, I know this already."

"It is only a precaution," Shockwave stated in his monotone growl, watching and feeling as the autobot practically jumped with excitement to get out.

"Got it, can I go now?" Smokescreen asked, looking over at the decepticon and grinning when he saw him nod. Internally hiding his glee, he nodded back and opened the door, transforming instantly and taking off down the purple hallway. Shockwave watching him go.

Ah yes, these were the moments that Smokey loved most. Just being able to drive around freely without being pestered or grouched at. Nothing but the feeling of the cool air rushing past him along with the steady rumble of his engines as his wheels streaked across the metal ground.

What could be better than this?

After Smokescreen made a few sharp turns down some narrow hallways, he soon found himself coming to a grinding hault when a certain someone stood in the middle of the hallway before him. Those predatory optics catching sight of him, and in return, the beast huffed and flared its wings out.

Smokescreen’s first intention was to collide head on, but today he decided to have some fun. Instead of transforming, he spun his wheels and vastly turned around, back in the opposite direction. Chuckling when he heard the sound of a upset Predaking roaring behind him.

It didn't take long for him to hear the beasts loud steps as he chased after him. To be fair, he slowed down a little bit, knowing how big the beast was and how little room he had left to run in. It wasn't like he could fly in the dense spacing of the hallway anyway. So Smokescreen figured that he had enough time.

Looking in his rear view mirrors, Smokescreen chuckled to himself and made an unexpected turn to the right. The sound of Predaking's sharp claws scraping across the length of the metal ground following not too far behind him making his engine rumble in amusement.

"Is that all you got?" Smokescreen hollered out loud and made another sharp turn, hearing the tear of metal claws against metal floors and speeding up.

Predaking's small roar was persistent, happy, playful, a sign of something very rarely expressed to him anymore, and Smokescreen loved it. He had gotten acquainted with the predacon the moment Shockwave introduced them to each other. From that moment the invisible bond just seemed to grow and Predaking became his loyal protector and watch dog. It wasn't until the beast learnt that he actually had the capability to transform into an actual mech that they were able to confess their feelings for each other.

At first Smokescreen had been a little terrified because Predaking was just so big and intimidating and Smokescreen felt a little bit too lacking for his taste. He wasn't anything impressive and he was an autobot so technically Predaking was suppose to despise him.

 _'I am not only a king of my kind, but a king of yours...'_ Predaking had once whispered in his audio, _'Which means that you must obey everything I say.'_

Smokescreen knew it was just a silly joke made from the seduction of Predaking's enticingly clever mind, but he couldn't help but to shudder every time he thought of it. Ever since Dreadwing was offlined it felt as if there were an empty hole in his chassis, a big, wide, gaping hole that was cold and lifeless. Shockwave's presence helped but it just... wasn't enough.

As Smokescreen drove to a dead end, the squeal of his tires echoed across the metal floor as he came to an immediate stop. Transforming, he jumped up and looked back down the hallway only to gasp when big, sharp claws firmly gripped his shoulders and pushed him backwards.

"W-whoa," Smokescreen stuttered when his back met the cool surface of the wall behind him, and he looked up at the giant before him, "That must be a new record, huh? It usually takes you a couple minutes to catch up with me- not that I have room to blame you or anything."

"How dare you make me chase after you ruthlessly, day by day," Predaking growled but had no trace of irritation what so ever in his voice. He looked down at the smaller bot, optics half mast as he trailed his dangerously sharp claws down his chest and across his bared neck.

Smokescreen shuddered and gripped the king's shoulders as he swallowed down a lump in his throat. "I live to serve," he closed his optics when Predaking's servo skimmed across his tank and slowly opened them back up, "I'd think you'd appreciate the effort by now. After all, I am helping you become a better driver in some sort of fashion."

"Mmh," Predaking growled and leaned forward, bending down so he could cup the faintly trembling bot's face, tracing his tinted blue cheeks gently with his claws whilst mumbling, "You've always been a creature of habit. But I wouldn't have you any other way."

That hole inside his chest tightened and felt as if a glob of warm, sticky goo fell inside it somewhere. Smokescreen’s sad smile widened and he held onto the bigger mech like a plush animal that would protect him from all the cruel monsters the world had bestowed upon him.

Predaking leaned in even more, just a few inches from kissing those sweet silver lips and ravishing that little lithe body until it was nothing but moaning, writhing and whimpers of his own name. He held Smokescreen’s arm with one servo while cupping his face with the other, just ready to claim him in all the right ways.

Smokescreen was ready for it too. He was excited to be honest. He hadn't gotten to kiss anyone since Dreadwing passed away. Sad really, but he was starving for the extra attention and affection.

"Hey, break it up, break it up," Said a somewhat irritated voice with a hint of smugness and disgust in it.

Predaking made a real frustrated growl and turned his annoyed optics to the intruder standing just a little ways down the hall with his servos placed elegantly on his hips.

"Need I remind you that you are not suppose to be anywhere near your creator's play thing?" Knockout said knowingly.

Predaking scowled at the medic and pulled away from the autobot who's presence he felt reaching out for the return of his own. But he couldn't disobey one of his own.

Smokescreen would scoff and whine and argue but he knew that Shockwave made this fake rule up where he forbid him and Predaking from ever speaking to each other as opposed to _'uneducated interfacing protocols'_ and of course to appease Megatron’s frag toy Starscream. Stupid in his opinion, but it did keep them from getting into trouble.

"Come on, back to your kitty dungeon," Knockout waved the beast off like he was no matter.

Predaking looked back at Smokescreen, giving him an empathetic look before glaring at the medic. Walking away, he transformed into beast mode and made a horrid screeching sound right as he was passing Knockout, just letting it be known that he was not happy.

Smokescreen kept a chuckle back at the medic's cringy reaction, but soon he felt any positivity inside himself deflate when he saw the medic lift out a pair of stasis cuffs. "Uh, why do you have those?" he asked suspiciously.

"Why, to keep you from charging at our new guest of course," Knockout said happily as he walked over to the autobot, "Pity I must touch you in order of presenting you to your owner, but at least he will be happy that I informed him of this encounter."

"But why do I need the cuffs?" Smokescreen had heard the word _guest_ before and just thought it might have been another vehicon clone or decepticon rookie.

"As I've said before," Knockout repeated in annoyance as he walked over to the whiny autobot and roughly grabbed his arms, twisting them behind his back as he put on the cuffs, "Today's guest is someone special. You'll see. But strictly by my own rules of course, we can't have an emotional no good like you attempting anything dramatic now can we?"

Smokescreen grunted in both aggravation and slight pain, the discomfort from the position his servos were in making him have to bend over slightly. "Who's the guest then? I haven't attempted anything with anyone before, so this is stupid. Why can't you just let me go?"

"Shockwave just had to choose _you_ as his personal frag toy," Knockout sighed as he grabbed the back of Smokescreen’s forearms and began pushing him in the direction of the lab.

Despite being utterly confused and frustrated, Smokescreen didn't protest any further. He learned long ago that nothing could be won over with the medic especially since his own outlooks were so exasperated and undefeatable. But he did wonder: who was this new guest?

Who was here that the decepticons were so worried about him seeing? It wasn't like Smokescreen could do anything about it anyway. He had met Makeshift, Predaking, insecticons and a few new vehicon clones without having to wear cuffs, and that was even with Knockout around him. So who was this new guest?

Guess he would have to find out.

* * *

 

 

As the new guest studied the various tools and energon he was equipped with, he silently wowed the display and the statistics behind everything. "So we know this cybermatter to be produced by a trimolecular displacement reaction?" he asked.

Shockwave stood close by, nodding slightly as he looked over the guest's shoulder. "Extensive and puricolle evidence indicates it's the fundamental instability within the formulation to be the cause," he explained, his voice more friendly and welcoming in scientific matters as so to enlighten the guest.

When the guest turned to look at him, Shockwave continued on with his theory, "Naturally the results only confirmed my original hypothesis. Once the variable has been corrected for, the stabilized synthetic material will bind properly with sybernucleic acids."

"And produce a stable form of cybermatter... Remarkable," the guest awed, ignoring the swoosh of a door opening behind them, figuring it must have just been Knockout.

"Yes," Shockwave thought nothing of it either, simply turning to the guest and agreeing, "Quite the act of providence."

"I do hate to be the burster of science bubbles here, but I just had to confirm that your prisoner was found being harassed again," Knockout said as if he were proud of himself, "And so I thought I'd bring him to you for confirmation."

" _Ratchet_..."

At first Ratchet hadn't been listening to anything the other doctor was saying because who would listen to him anyway? But that one familiar, shaky whisper of his name brought something forgotten inside him to life, and he was turning around to face the doors. His optics going wide.

Smokescreen was there, looking at him in the most surprised, betrayed and abandoned way. He looked awful. His sporty paint gone with past scratches or scrapes and his door wings lowered. And he was wearing cuffs, cuffs that Knockout was currently not too easily holding him by. Words he pushed away came back and made him gap in the slightest way.

"Shall I be returning the prisoner to my laboratory for fixing or to the dungeons until your wait has ended?" Knockout asked, giving the autobot a rough shove forward.

The whole space was terribly tense and awkward. Ratchet looking at Smokescreen in silent confusion. Smokescreen looking wildly between Ratchet and Shockwave in betrayal and unhealthy recognition. And Shockwave feeling dissatisfied about the whole situation because Knockout was not suppose to bring Smokescreen anywhere near the guest and he wasn't suppose to address the beast issue.

"I will escort him myself," Shockwave stated as he began walking over to the medic, "In due time, tend to our guest's needs. I will return shortly."

"Shockwave," Smokescreen whispered in light horror and disbelief, his big blue optics spinning up to his bonded and back at the old autobot medic, "Shockwave, what's he doing here? Why's he helping you?"

"Do not ask questions." Shockwave said strickly as he began leading the young bot away.

Ratchet watched them, everything he once believed in colliding with a course of new theories and questions. His spark feeling the slightest twinge of regret as he watched a decepticon- a decepticon who supposedly raped one of his own team members, bonded with him and kidnapped him without will- was carrying that same bot away in a pair of stasis cuffs and a horrified look in his optics.

Once they were gone, he heard Knockout snuff and wipe his servos together. "Why do _I_ always have to be the one to babysit the prisoner?" Knockout grumbled as he turned around and got ready to gather more tools for the guest.

"Prisoner?" Ratchet repeated, his voice and optics wide as ever, "Smokescreen is your prisoner?"

"Well he's not _my_ prisoner," Knockout confirmed disgustedly and gave Ratchet a bored look, gesturing to the door, "My standards for a mech go much higher than that, thank you very much. No, he's Shockwave's slave."

"Slave?" Ratchet asked in further disbelief, his optics going even wider as false implications began to sprout through his processor, "But I thought Smokescreen was on your side. I-I thought he was helping you?"

Knockout flashed his optics brightly at the medic and grimaced, "No." He said it like it was obvious and ridiculous, "Primus no. Why would he be on our side? He's just a mere mistake made by Shockwave who then leaves him as a mess that's usually left for none other than me to clean up."

Knockout leaned against a table as he gave Ratchet a flat look coming from his own past annoyance. "Ever since your Prime kicked him off his team for _whatever_ reasons, Shockwave took his chance and brought the little reck aboard the ship," he shuddered and cringed, "Lord, you should have seen some of the conditions I've found him left in. And of course I'm always the lucky one who has to fix him and listen to his pety complaining. You'd think by now my efforts would be appreciated because if it hadn't been for me that little car reck would be overused scrap metal."

The information, although mostly complaints from Knockout's part, was overwhelming Ratchet who just now realized the truth and all the mistakes he had made. Guilt began to build deep inside him and he clenched his dentals as Knockout continued to rant on about clarity and more appreciation.

This meant that Smokescreen hadn't plotted anything, he wasn't on the decepticons side, he was raped and bonded without will. And now he's been trapped here for months enduring who knows what kind of torture and no body bothered to even try to help him. Even when the ship got froze or those times when the autobots invaded the ship, no body had ever thought to look for Smokescreen.

Because Smokescreen was suppose to be bad, suppose to be a betrayer and a falsely. But no...

Ratchet bowed his helm and held it, feeling terribly a shamed as sorrow and guilt took him over. Especially as he thought about poor Smokescreen and all he must have went through.

"Are you doing okay over there?" Knockout asked.

"Y-yes," Ratchet shook his helm and stood straighter, clearing his vocals and turning back to his work, "I'm fine."

* * *

 

 

"Shockwave, what's going on?" Smokescreen asked pleadingly as Shockwave led him through their shared chambers, his arms aching as he felt concerned why Shockwave hadn't removed the cuffs yet, "Why is Ratchet here-why is he helping you?"

Shockwave said nothing as he guided Smokescreen to the berth and made him sit down. "Please, Shockwave, answer me! I don't understand what's going on o-or what to do," Smokescreen panicked.

Shockwave paused, his silence defeated all of what Smokescreen had to say. "We need Ratchet's intelligence in order to achieve a major outbreak. If all goes as hypothesized, the transmission may be submitted and Cybertron conducted by the decepticons."

Smokescreen stilled in horror but squirmed after realizing that his words would have no effect on Shockwave no matter how bad his emotions were. "But why is he helping you?" it was a question he didn't think he would ever understand.

After all, the team got rid of him just by thinking that there was a slight possibility that he was working with the decepticons, and now Ratchet was working with them? Nuh uh. That's just dumb. That's impossible!

"We have currently resigned him to a more stabilized impression but we cannot fail him," Shockwave turned to Smokescreen and leaned over him, ignoring how he winced and let out a mindless drought of emotions. He unlocked the cuffs and took them off.

Smokescreen slowly brought his servos up and rubbed his arms, frowning at Shockwave as he didn't know what to do. "I don't understand..." He whispered, feeling so confused and sad and betrayed.

Two mechs who hurt him working together. It was like he really was a bad guy that everyone hated.

"You must understand that if I am to perish, you will as well," Shockwave looked over at his autobot who gave him those horribly sad optics that made his spark burn. He would have sighed if he could but instead he lifted up a syringe filled with bluish green liquid.

The farmula was mainly used to temporarily offline insecticons who had gone feral, but wouldn't do any permanent damage.

And Smokescreen knew this.

"No..." He whispered and backed up, helm shaking "No, no you can't. You can't do that to me, Shockwave!"

"I must," Shockwave grabbed Smokescreen even as he gasped and thrashed to try and get away, yanking him closer, "I am doing this for your own significance."

"No, Shockwave, please don't-don't do that, please!" Smokescreen tried to get away, pawing at the berth but he gasped when he felt the sharp needle poke in through his neck, right inside his main energon line.

And he offlined.

Shockwave felt it and nearly fell to the ground. This wouldn't keep their bond from opening back up. All it would take was someone draining the sedative energon from Smokescreen’s system and they would be able to feel each other again. That is... if they both lived. 

Looking down, Shockwave reached out for Smokescreen and touched his offline face, suddenly feeling as lonely and as cold as he did all the orns ago when he had absolutely no one to feel. He lost Dreadwing (for forever) and that was hard enough. He wouldn't risk losing Smokescreen too even if that meant that the bot would have to wake up and see that he was... no longer there.

At least the impact of the bond would not harm him.

 


End file.
